Hounds of Winter
by Icy Mike Molson
Summary: Southern Tourant has always been known for harsh, long winters. But when extremely late season storms break over the region, one scholar thinks it's more than a natural act...
1. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

Wizards of the Coast owns the general concept of Dungeons and Dragons, from which this story was devised. However, _The New World_ and its principal kingdoms of Mardan, Urhal, Utrecht, Tourant, the Island Duchies, Arhneim, Trzebin, and Argent Forest, are mine. Likewise, the characters, while ostensibly created through the use of the Dungeons and Dragons character generation rules, are also mine. While I am not completely averse to someone requesting to use _The New World_ as a backdrop for a campaign or story, ask my permission first. Chances are you'll have my blessing; after all, I'd be interested to see what someone can do with the political and social backdrop I've created. Finally, Hounds of Winter is the title of a song by Sting, but that's about all this story has in common with tantric British pop stars. Sorry, Stacy. I won't tell you anything about The New World; that's for you to find out through the stories. However, even though I thought I made it pretty obvious by page three, I will give you this one bit of information. The New World is based in the southern hemisphere. That means it gets colder as you go south, not north.

The New World has only once seen use in a campaign. One day, while wondering if my _Goblin Wars_(also known as _The Campaign Where Three Hobgoblins Can Scare the Bejeezus out of a Party of Seventh Level Characters_) campaign would ever get restarted, I was leafing through the _Dungeon Master's Guide_, and came across page 138, One Hundred Adventure Ideas. I thought that quite a few of the ideas were actually pretty cool, but the problem with running a war campaign is that you tend to be limited(especially when the enemy is just about all goblins and hobgoblins, although this is also the campaign where one ogre nearly killed a fourth level dwarven fighter with one shot) in the types of enemies and encounters you can run. I idly wondered if I could write a story for each of these hundred ideas. So, naturally, I created a whole new world, complete with nations that didn't really like each other all that much, and picked Idea #45 as my starting point. What is idea #45? Well, either you have to read this story, or you have to break out your _Dungeon Master's Guide _to find out


	2. A Late Storm

****

I

Allan's small, sturdy wood and thatch home stood on the southwest corner of the village of Falloux, set in the southwestern reaches of Tourant. With the Khairathi Mountains only a few dozen miles to the west, the village, and the thick forests of mixed oak and pine that surrounded it, had been subjected to dozens of blizzards that blew down out of the imposing mountain range that formed the western border of Tourant. Over almost forty winters, Allan had seen blizzards that made the howling winds and driving snow of this storm pale by comparison. Winters in the southern reaches had never been forgiving, especially near the Khairathi peaks. But it was not the intensity of the storm that made the logger notice the weather.

"I thought it was going to be an early spring," Allan said, leaning on his axe as he stood on the porch of his home. The thick stands of pine that marked the southern boundary of the village were nearly concealed by the driving snow and the darkness cast by the heavy gray clouds overhead. Standing next to him, Gaetan shrugged in disinterest, his hands tucked safely inside the folds of his heavy black cloak.

"All the signs were there for one," the older logger said, stiffly removing one hand to scratch at the heavy beard he wore on his weatherbeaten face. Allan was no youngster, but Gaetan had been logging the southern reaches of Tourant for as long as Allan could remember, and his gray beard and hair and stooped, once powerful frame displayed the rigors of a long life felling trees. The two men looked up to the sky for a moment, but the blizzard showed no signs of dying out. "I guess someone forgot to wake up the sun."

"The temple to Pelor is holding services right now," Allan commented, turning away from the dark woodline and examining something on the door of his home. The younger man said nothing for a moment, then turned back to his companion. "A late snow will set us back by almost a week, if it is too deep to drag the timber back."

"I wouldn't worry about that," Gaetan said with a little bit of a smile. "In fact, this storm may help us. A shortage of timber may mean that the shipwrights in Stith and Lancoux will pay more for what they can get."

"Or they may look to loggers in Mardan or Argent," Allan countered. Gaetan chuckled as he shook his head, immediately disregarding the idea of competition.

"Argent is elven," the older man said. "Do you think they would cut down a tree in the name of shipbuilding? And as for Mardan, well, they don't have the forests we have. No good, tall pine for masts. The shipwrights need our timber."

"Have you ever seen a blizzard break this late?" Allan inquired, looking out to the wild snows again. Gaetan shook his head as he drew an ornate wooden pipe from his heavy woolen tunic.

"First time for everything, lad," the older logger observed, examining the pipe for a long moment. "I just hope some tobacco will come down from Urhal, despite the weather. I'm almost done with my supplies."

"It's almost a week past first planting, isn't it?" Allan continued, ignoring the older man's complaint.

"Farmers'll have a bit of a hard time with a late freeze like this," Gaetan admitted. "Doubt this is going on up north, though. Gets warmer even a few dozen miles north. I was in Stith once, and it really warms up by the northern border. But enough worrying about the weather. We have one more day to make merry in the tavern, and I think an ale is just what you need to take your mind off of things."

"Maybe you're right," Allan said, finally pushing the oddity of the storm out of his mind. "But I can't stay late tonight. My wife is not happy with the amount of time I've been spending there lately."

"It's snowed heavy three straight days," Gaetan said, stepping into the knee deep powder covering the ground. "Can't blame you for wanting to get out of the house."

"She thinks I'm not paying enough attention to her or the children," Allan said. Gaetan let out a loud, throaty laugh that managed to overcome the silence that the falling snow had created over the town.

Somewhere beyond the edge of the village, a mournful howl answered his laugh.

"Even the wolves are laughing at that one," Gaetan said with a final chuckle. Allan tried to return the old man's good humor, but found a knot of fear beginning to tighten in his stomach. Wolves were a fact of life in southwestern Tourant, but something about the howl had unsettled him…

Something moved near the stand of pines. Allan's eyes shot to the dark outlines of the trees, but he could see nothing through the snow and the dim, false evening created by the heavy clouds. A wolf, perhaps? But why would a wolf stray so close to Falloux? For a long moment the logger stared into the forest, but nothing presented itself through the curtain of snow falling through the trees.

Gaetan's scream shattered the afternoon silence, but the older logger's shriek died into a strangled gasp almost as quickly as it had started. Allan whirled to his companion, but the older logger had simply vanished into the snow.

"Gaetan?" Allan called out, reaching back to his door without taking his eyes from his friend's last location. Quickly the younger man backed up a step, frantically reaching for his axe as he tried to find his companion in the blizzard. "Gaetan! Where are you?"

His hand closed around the long haft of his axe, but at the same instant powerful jaws clamped onto his wrist. Allan screamed in pain and terror as he desperately tried to pull his hand free of whatever had caught him, ripping loose with a last burst of frantic strength and tumbling back through the deep snow. Allan tried to plant his hands to stand, but to his horror found that his right hand had been torn free at the wrist.

A low, rumbling growl carried through the falling snow from his house. Allan leapt to his feet with a shriek of terror, not even looking back as he raced away from his house for the temple of Pelor. Behind him something plunged into the snow, giving chase with a blood chilling howl.

Allan only covered ten more steps before it dragged him down into the snow.


	3. A Woman's Intuition

****

II

It was the latest snowfall he had ever experienced, but the southern reaches of Tourant were well known for late season storms.

Sylvain du Lune D'or gazed idly out over the western reaches of the city of Montcalm, watching a light flurry of snow fall over his holdings and collect on the thatched roofs of the city's wood and stone homes. The skies overhead were obscured by the bank of leaden clouds that had brought the late snow, but even now the afternoon sun fought to break through the shroud. A freak squall this late into spring could cause problems with the upcoming planting season, but the people of southern Tourant had grown accustomed to such trials. If a simple late storm was all he needed to concern himself with in the coming year, Sylvain would consider himself lucky.

The Marquis of Montcalm turned away from the window of his audience hall, blowing lightly on his hands as he turned to the large fireplace that dominated the north wall. Such a beautiful view of Montcalm and the countryside came at a price; the Marquis du Lune D'or's meeting hall was at the mercy of the weather, and even now the noble's breath steamed up from his mouth and nose as he moved to the fire's warmth. Just inside the two west facing windows, small piles of snow accumulated on the stone floor of the room, slowly beginning to melt from the heat of the fire on the north wall. During the cold winter months, audiences would be conducted in a better insulated and more central room in his keep, but the noble truly appreciated the vista afforded by the room's windows. As the marquis warmed himself for a moment at the cheery fire, the door to the audience hall opened behind him.

"Milord, may I present Mistress Talia of the Arcanists' Guild," the marquis' seneschal stated, bowing as he moved to the side of the door. The young woman that entered was only vaguely familiar to the marquis of Montcalm from a handful of research inquiries. Mistress Talia was a slightly built young woman, standing no more than an inch or two above five feet and only a couple of years past her twentieth winter, with long blond hair braided down the back of her deep blue and gold robes.

"Welcome, Mistress Talia," Sylvain stated amiably, meeting the young woman's deep brown eyes. The noble gestured to the bare room, and smiled faintly. "I apologize for not being able to offer you a seat, but most of the furniture is still in storage."

"That's perfectly all right, milord," Talia said with a faintly bashful smile of her own as she curtsied to the marquis. His duties completed, the seneschal bowed again, and left the room. "Thank you for receiving me on such short notice."

"Winter is somewhat boring," Sylvain said. "And with these late snows, the rigors of spring will have to wait another week."

"That was what I wished to speak to you about," Talia said, taking a step further into the room. The young woman shivered slightly as a stiff breeze blew into the chamber, pulling her cloak closer about her shoulders.

"If you wish, we can move this meeting to a warmer room," Sylvain offered, quickly noting his guest's discomfort. Talia smiled as she shook her head.

"No, this is fine," the young mage said. "Actually, it makes my point. It is a very late season snow, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Sylvain agreed, motioning for the mage to come closer to the fire. Talia quickly moved next to the hearth, taking a moment to absorb some of the heat. "Late season snows are not completely uncommon out of the Khairathi Mountains, however."

"Do you know that this is the latest snow ever recorded?" Talia asked, looking up to the taller marquis. Sylvain shook his head, confused by the young woman's line of reason.

"Records have only been kept for the past fifty or sixty years," the marquis said. "And the mountains do as they please, at times. At any rate, a simple flurry is nothing to be alarmed about."

"A simple flurry, no," Talia conceded. "But it has come to our attention that the snows are much heavier to the south and west."

"As would be expected," Sylvain concluded.

"Milord, I suspect that these storms are not natural in nature," Talia said abruptly. Sylvain met her serious gaze for a long moment.

"This is the view of the Arcanists' Guild?" the marquis inquired, growing more concerned.

"It… is my view," Talia admitted. "I have done extensive research into the weather of the area, and-"

"But the Arcanists' Guild as a whole sees nothing out of the ordinary with this flurry," Sylvain cut in. Talia stopped for a moment, a truly worried expression coming to her face.

"Well… they have not done the research that I have," Talia explained nervously. Sylvain's green eyes narrowed slightly. "But I'm sure if they did, they would have come to the same conclusion," the mage added quickly, trying to win the marquis' support.

"Talia, you are a scholar, correct?" Sylvain inquired, appraising the young woman's obvious discomfort in the cold. Talia said nothing as she looked to the fire. "And you are from the north as well, correct? You only came here four years ago?" the marquis pressed. Again Talia remained silent, conceding the point to the marquis. "It is only natural for one who is not used to such a long winter to become disturbed by a late season storm.

"I am from Stith," the young mage acknowledged. "But the research that I have done-"

"I don't mean to doubt the usefulness of your research," Sylvain cut in. "But not a single logger, farmer, scout, or hunter, all people with years of practical experience with this territory's weather, have mentioned even the slightest concern over this freak storm."

"But, milord, I just know there's something wrong with this storm," Talia countered, practically pleading with the marquis. "I am convinced that there is something more to this than the whims of the mountains or whatever you call it!"

"Do you have a starting point?" the noble inquired, clasping his hands behind his back. Talia seemed taken off guard by the question.

"I… beg you pardon?" the mage asked in reply.

"A starting point," Sylvain reiterated. "A logical beginning to your exploration. Someone with the cause and the power to summon up a late season storm against the entire southwestern portion of Tourant. The lands to the southwest of Montcalm are indeed vast, and are composed of thick forests of pine and spruce interspersed by rugged hills that lead to the Khairathi Mountains. There are hundreds, or possibly thousands, of miles of territory to cover."

"Well, I…" Talia trailed off. The marquis had expected as much from the young scholar; even if she did have a valid point about the weather, she had no idea of the sheer expanse of terrain before her.

"What makes you so certain that this is an unnatural storm?" Sylvain inquired, pushing the young scholar even further.

"Well, the beginning of spring almost always sees a shift in the winds from the west to the northeast," Talia answered, regaining some of her lost confidence. "This brings warmer air in off of the Tern Sea, and pushes the cold weather back into the mountains. With these late storms we've been having, I was curious if the wind was still coming in off of the sea. I found that it was, but for some reason, this year it isn't pushing the cold back into the mountains."

"Weather is a very fickle thing," Sylvain said. "Perhaps this year the winds out of the mountains are stronger."

"But why?" Talia asked. "Why this year, and not any other? I have charts and research showing that the winds from the coast are actually slightly stronger than they have been in recent years. I think something is deliberately pushing storms down out of the mountains, against the prevailing seasonal winds."

"But you don't know what," Sylvain concluded, holding back his skepticism about the young scholar's theory.

"That's why I want to go into the mountains," Talia explained. "I can't discover anything more than I already have from here. The only way to prove or disprove my theory is to actually travel southwest and examine the situation firsthand. After all, the hobgoblins of Trzebin and the frost giants of the southern peaks are only a few of the groups that would benefit from our losses, and it is certainly not outside of either group's power to do such a thing."

"But without anything solid to move upon, I can't simply commit troops to wandering around the mountains," Sylvain explained. The marquis hesitated for a moment, seeing the desperation in the mage's eyes, then turned to the window. "However, you are free to conduct your own investigations," the marquis continued. "I have very little to offer in the way of support for such an endeavor, but I can provide you with a mount and some sturdy clothing that would be more suited to the weather. Anything else, you will have to acquire on your own."

"May I request the services of a guide, as well?" Talia asked. Sylvain leaned on the windowsill for a moment, looking down to the snow covered courtyard below.

"Most of my scouts are either in the field or preparing for the spring raids to the north," the marquis explained. "The orcs will be coming down out of the mountains from the northwest. If this weather has affected them as it has us, they will be even more determined than usual."

"You have… no one?" Talia concluded. Sylvain was about to turn back to his guest, but watched as a single rider entered the courtyard through the west gate, heavily wrapped in a mottled brown and white cloak as he guided his huge mount to the stables beyond. Maybe there was one man he could spare…

"I can offer but one guide," Sylvain finally conceded, turning back to the mage. Talia breathed out a sigh of relief. "He is a good man, talented in woodlore, but don't expect him to be very good company."

"As long as he can get me there, he's good enough," Talia said. "When can I meet this man?"

"He should be at the stables now," Sylvain replied. "His name is Crispin of Woodline. Look for a mottled brown and white cloak; that will be him. I will leave it to the two of you to decide upon the details of your expedition. If he resists the idea, and he likely will, have him speak to me."

"Thank you, milord," Talia said, curtsying quickly. Sylvain simply nodded as the young mage hurried from the meeting hall and rushed to the staircase. The marquis simply watched the doorway where she had disappeared for a moment, then turned back to the fire with a shake of his head.

_________________________________________________

Any time she said anything about the cold weather, someone had to mention that she was from Stith.

Talia stepped out of the main doors of the Marquis du Lune D'or's keep, stopping for a moment in the open courtyard as she pulled her heavy woolen cloak tightly around her. Stith had never been so cold; the currents of the Tern Sea brought warmer weather to the coastal city, fighting off the icy winds that gusted down out of the mountains. During her four years in Montcalm, the young mage had barely been able to adjust to the bitter winters, but the Arcanists' Guild held few opportunities for someone of her age and inexperience in the north. When southern Tourant failed to warm with the onset of spring, Talia had been the only one to notice the difference enough to look into the matter. The Marquis du Lune D'or, like her colleagues in the Guild, had simply assumed that the northerner was making a big deal over a minor inconsistency in the weather.

Bracing herself against a sudden, frigid gust of wind from the west, Talia set out through the half inch deep snow in the courtyard, making her way to the stables that clustered around the northwest corner of the keep. The stables themselves were little more than thatched roofs protecting the mounts from the worst of the weather, supported by heavy oaken timbers over a patch of partially frozen mud. A large, foul smelling fire of dung, straw, and wood burned brightly in the center of the stables, providing some small amount of warmth for the stable hands and horses. While the snow was beginning to accumulate in most of the courtyard, a ring of mud and ice surrounded the stables for almost a dozen yards in each direction, denoting the high traffic area around the stables. Carefully Talia made her way across the mud to the stables, sighing in resignation as her heavy suede boots sank almost to the ankles in the mire and the hem of her dress quickly acquired a thick glaze of icy sludge. As she reached the entrance to the stables, one of the hands looked up from his grooming duties to appraise the well dressed newcomer.

"Help ya?" the young hand asked, barely breaking stride as he continued to comb out a black war horse's mane. The boy was no older than fourteen, rail thin and filthy, but held a faintly eager charm in his eyes as he swiftly looked over the mage.

"I'm looking for a man named Crispin of Woodline," Talia replied, smiling faintly as she tried to ignore the stench of the fire burning only a few feet away. "The Marquis du Lune D'or said that I could find him here. He wears a mottled brown and white-"

"Whatcha want Crispin for?" the youth interrupted, genuinely surprised by her line of inquiry.

"I need a guide to the southwest," Talia answered after a faint hesitation. The youth almost laughed in her face, but quickly reined in his mirth.

"Over that way," the stable hand answered with a broad, gap toothed smile. He pointed to the far side of the stable, where Talia could just barely see a mottled cloak moving around a chestnut colored steed. Talia paused another moment, wondering about the boy's amusement with the situation, but suddenly noticed that the man was turning to leave the stables. Quickly the young mage pushed her way past the stable hands near the fire and hurried through the narrow walkway after the man, trying to catch him before he could disappear anywhere else in the keep.

"Crispin! Crispin of Woodline!" the young mage called out, trying to get the man's attention as she rushed around a corner. "I have to talk to-"

Talia's call ended abruptly as she slipped on the muddy ground and tumbled into a vacant stall, bouncing off of the timber fence and falling into a greasy slick of mud, straw, and manure. For a long moment the mage simply remained on the ground, gingerly wiping some of the mud from her chin with one filthy hand and listening to the surprised and amused chuckles of the stable hands.

"You were looking for me?"

The voice was a low, rumbling, and almost unfriendly bass, completely unfamiliar to the young mage. Slowly Talia rolled onto her back and propped herself up on her elbows, trying to keep the color from her cheeks as she looked up at the speaker. The man standing over her resembled nothing so much as a bear; his faintly tall, powerful frame was bundled in furs and his heavy, mottled woolen cloak, not quite hiding the hand axe and long sword belted to his waist. His long, coarse black hair cascaded down over his shoulders and partially obscured his weathered, unshaven features and sharp hazel eyes, but Talia's attention was drawn almost instantly to a series of wicked scars that drew three white lines from his right temple to the base of his neck.

"You're… Crispin of Woodline?" Talia asked, hoping that he was not the man that the marquis had mentioned. While the scouts and rangers of southern Tourant were not known for social graces, many of them seemed at least a little more approachable than the stern man standing over her.

"I am," the woodsman replied simply, leaning forward and extending a hand to help the young mage to her feet. As she took hold of his thickly callused hand, she could see more scars, this time most likely from the jaws and teeth of some animal, pocking the skin of his wrist and forearm. Crispin of Woodline hauled the young woman to her feet with no apparent effort, then took a step back to appraise the mage once more. "You all right?"

"Except for my pride," Talia answered, smiling a little bit as she tried one last time to remove some of the filth from her now ruined clothes. A couple of the stable hands chuckled slightly at her joke, but Crispin simply nodded. "Thanks for your help."

"What did you want?" Crispin inquired, moving the conversation forward without any further regard for the young woman's condition. Talia hesitated for a second, taken aback slightly by the man's brusque attitude.

"Well, I need a guide for an expedition to the southwest," the young mage finally explained. "The Marquis du Lune D'or told me that you would be available for such a journey."

"Why would you want to head southwest?" Crispin asked, appraising the mage.

"I think that these late storms might not be natural," Talia answered, bracing for the inevitable skepticism. As she expected, Crispin turned a thoroughly cynical expression to her.

"We're in southwestern Tourant," the ranger pointed out. "We get cold weather late into spring every year."

"But not this late," Talia countered. Crispin sighed and turned to leave, but the mage stayed at his side. "Never in the recorded history of this region has snow fallen this late in the spring!"

"Three years ago we had flurries weeks past this," Crispin informed the mage as he walked out of the stables.

"But not a storm with any intensity!" Talia retorted, hurrying to keep up with her guide. "This storm is not normal!"

"Then what is it?" Crispin asked, stopping and turning on the mage as only a few yards before he reached the gates.

"I'm… not sure," Talia answered. "But it isn't normal, and I think that there might be something going on in the mountains."

"Like what?" Crispin pressed, still skeptical.

"I don't know," Talia admitted. "I haven't had enough time or field study to determine the cause."

"That's because it's just a freak storm," Crispin explained, turning again and continuing to the gates of the keep. Still Talia refused to relent, chasing after the ranger once more.

"It could be hobgoblin shamans!" the mage exclaimed as she caught up to the man. "It could be frost giants! It could be a cult of winter! I can't find out until I get into the mountains, you idiot!"

"I'm not the one covered in mud and manure," Crispin observed as he walked through the heavy gates and into the streets of Montcalm.

"I slipped!" Talia reminded him, growing furious with the man's stubborn demeanor. "Would you stop walking away from me for just a minute?"

Crispin stopped in the middle of the thoroughfare, simply staring down the street ahead of him for a long moment.

"Go home, girl," the ranger said, turning to her. "There's nothing out there but a late storm and a few irritable loggers and farmers."

"I'm going out there," Talia said evenly. "And so are you, for that matter. If you don't think so, you can speak to the Marquis du Lune D'or about the matter."

"I can speak to the Marquis du Lune D'or about the matter," Crispin repeated, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the mage. Without another word, the ranger turned and stalked back through the snow, heading for the marquis's keep.

_________________________________________________

"I expected you to be back even sooner."

"Milord," Crispin spat out, practically charging into the audience hall. The Marquis du Lune D'or stood next to the hearth, his hands clasped behind his back as he turned to the irate ranger. "What the hell is that… that kid out there babbling about?"

"She thinks there's a threat to our southwest," Sylvain replied simply. "She says that the storms we've been experiencing of late are not natural, and she would like to try to find the cause of the storms."

"Yeah, I heard all of that," Crispin informed the marquis. "She also said you were going to have me guide her out into the mountains."

"I did," Sylvain confirmed.

"Milord, it's a freak squall!" Crispin practically shouted. "There's nothing more to it! We're in southern Tourant!"

"It's the latest storm we've had in recorded history," Sylvain added. Crispin's jaw dropped open as he stared at the marquis, too stunned to speak. "Apparently, Mistress Talia of the Arcanists' Guild has a lot of time on her hands to read through bizarre historical facts."

"You don't really think there's an actual threat out there, do you?" Crispin asked, astonished.

"For the love of Pelor, no!" Sylvain replied. "She's been reading too many books. Take her out there for a couple of weeks, show her some snow drifts and loggers' camps, and bring her home."

"But why bother at all?" Crispin demanded. "Just tell the girl that she's wrong and send her back to the Arcanists' Guild! Are you trying to punish me?"

"I should be, after the fiasco last fall with the mapmakers," Sylvain replied. "If you hadn't gotten them so pissed off that they walked off the job three weeks before the first snow, I might have been able to send Talia out into the southwest with an accurate map. And I don't want to hear any of your arguments about how inept they were at woodlore. As it stands, you know the southwest better than anyone else I have."

"You could send Thierry or Neuville," Crispin pointed out. "I trained both of them. They know almost as much about the southwest as I do, especially since the border towns have moved even closer to the mountains. I've seen thirty winters comer and go, and never have I heard such a stupid idea. Besides, either of them would go along just to be around that girl."

"But you're a better tracker and fighter than either one of them by far," Sylvain said. "And, on the extremely off chance that Talia managed to stumble upon some new plot from the goblins in Trzebin, you'd be able to pick up on it. I need to at least make the Arcanists' Guild think I respect them."

"Trzebin is over two hundred miles to the north," Crispin reminded the marquis. "They would have far more of an interest in raiding Argent or Mardan."

"I wouldn't put it past Krysztof," Sylvain said. "He'd be willing to help some of his fellow goblins, if they wanted to try and capture the southern frontier. And if we end up fighting the orcs over dwindling food supplies, he only stands to gain, in arms sales to the orcs if nothing else."

"It's a stretch," Crispin stated. "A real stretch. And Krysztof thinks the goblins down here are inbred morons."

"I know," Sylvain agreed. "But I have to at least act nice to the Arcanists' Guild right now. They have a very influential presence in the territory, and putting them on my bad side over some misled scholar is the last thing I need. All you need to do is make sure she gets back alive, and I'll be happy. I can't afford bad relations because I didn't stop a girl from freezing to death on some delusional quest. With my luck, they'd have the king toss me off my land and strip my title from me."

"So I'm stuck with her, is what you're saying," Crispin concluded, growing faintly dismal at the prospect. Sylvain nodded.

"That's right," the marquis confirmed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Have a good time."

_________________________________________________

"Everything straightened out?"

"Shut up," Crispin grumbled, not even bothering to look at Talia as he pushed his way out of the keep and into the snowy courtyard once more. He could think of nothing he wanted more than a day or two of rest in a warm bed, especially after four weeks of tracking an exceptionally stealthy band of brigands through the northern stretches of the Marquis du Lune D'or's territory. As the ranger stomped through the snow for the courtyard gates, Talia once again took up alongside of him.

"Look, I know that not many people are taking me seriously, but at least give me a chance," Talia said, following along as Crispin made his way into Montcalm. "Maybe we won't find anything out there, and that would be fine by me. I don't really want to find some hobgoblin high priest or frost giant out there, but this way, if there is one out there and they are trying to control the weather, then at least we'll know before things get too out of hand."

"That's very noble of you," Crispin muttered as he followed one of the thoroughfares to the western edge of town.

"At least try not to sound so miserable," Talia said, trying to goad the ranger into a better mood. "I mean, it'll only be a couple of weeks, and then you can go back to doing… well, whatever it is that you do."

"Don't you want to go home and get changed into something clean?" Crispin asked, finally turning to the mage. Talia looked down at her muddy clothing, then back to the ranger.

"Well, yes, but I wanted to see where you would be later," the young mage answered. "After all, I want to see what you know about the southwest, in case you have any ideas-"

"The only idea I have right now involves a lot of ale and a long, deep sleep in a vaguely warm bed," Crispin interrupted. "Tomorrow evening, maybe I'd be interested in helping you develop your idiot quest, but tonight, I'm drinking."

"Well, okay," Talia said, although she seemed reluctant at best to let the ranger out of her sight. "Well, where should I meet you tomorrow night?"

"The Western Sun, sometime around sunset," Crispin answered, still disgusted with his newest job. "In the meantime, you better find yourself some good clothes. Those robes might be fine for wandering about Montcalm, but you'll freeze to death in short order if you try heading into the deep forest wearing that."


	4. Yet Another Skeptic

****

III

"So he's basically getting back at you for the whole mapmaking thing."

"Far as I can tell," Crispin grumbled, swirling his ale in his tankard as he shook his head in disgust. Sitting across the rough hewn, deeply scarred wooden table, Thierry simply laughed. "I'm glad you find this funny, kid."

"Come on, Crispin," Thierry chided, leaning forward to slap his older companion's arm. Thierry was a good ten years younger than Crispin and not nearly as brawny, and almost always wore a smile on his smooth, handsome face. The older ranger looked up into his one time student's sparkling blue eyes, and simply sighed in disgust. "If she's the one I think she is, all you have to do is scrape the mud off of her and she'd probably be worth the trouble," the younger ranger said with a broad smirk. "I know I wouldn't mind showing her around the forest, if you know what I mean."

"I'd be more than willing to turn her over to you," Crispin stated, setting his mug of ale down on the table. "She's probably never set foot outside her magic tower for her entire life. Look of a high born, she has. You're welcome to that."

"I'd take her if the marquis wasn't sending me north," Thierry said, pushing his sandy hair back from his face. "But, well, my specialty is the orcs and the northern peaks. You took goblins, worgs and the south."

"That was my mistake," Crispin muttered. Thierry laughed again, and drained the last of his mug of ale.

"Oh, by the way, that's probably your ward over at the door right now," Thierry said as he thumped his empty tankard on the table. Crispin looked over his shoulder to the partially open door of the Western Sun tavern, to see the young mage standing just inside the common room with an arm full of furled parchments and a vaguely worried expression on her face as she glanced around the brightly lit tavern. The Western Sun had never been noted for its hospitable clientele; most of the patrons were loggers, city militia, or rangers in from the wilds looking to lose themselves in their pints. Already Talia's expensive dress and cloak, along with the simple fact that she was a woman, had drawn stares from several of the unsavory drinkers towards one corner of the bar.

"She makes an entrance," Crispin said, bracing himself for the inevitable moment when she found him.

"She's getting a good, long look from Emeri and his men," Thierry pointed out, growing serious.

"I don't need another fight with him," Crispin stated, glancing over his shoulder at the man Thierry had mentioned. Well built even under his chain mail and the white surcoat marked with the black _fleur de lis_ and crossed lances of the Tourant Lancers that he wore, the dark haired, barely shaven Emeri was not someone that Crispin would ever be able to trust. Although the Tourant Lancers were supposed to protect the merchants and travelers of the nation from highwaymen and brigands, Emeri and his patrol often saw fit to extort large sums of money from the few traders willing to travel the Timber Road. While it was true that those traders often gouged the loggers in their isolated settlements, Emeri used his extortion racket to his own benefit only. "Besides," Crispin added, surveying the group of Lancers, "there's five of them and only two of us."

"I'll take Emeri and you take the other four," Thierry suggested, leaning slightly forward on the table with a mischievous grin. Crispin rolled his eyes at the comment.

"He knocked two of your teeth out last time," the older ranger said. Crispin looked back over his shoulder again, and waved Talia over before Emeri could try to take advantage of the young woman. "You're lucky that wandering priest took pity on your ruined smile."

"It was a lucky shot," Thierry said with a shrug. The younger ranger looked up then as Talia reached the table. "Ah, milady Talia," Thierry said, standing to greet the newcomer. "Make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you," Talia said, taking a seat next to Crispin and setting the furled parchments on the table. Thierry took his seat again as well, leaning forward on his arms as he casually examined the papers strewn across the surface. Talia glanced over at Thierry for a moment, then turned hesitantly to Crispin.

"So, you going to introduce me?" Thierry inquired, looking to the older ranger.

"You got a tongue," Crispin replied. Talia was taken slightly aback by the curt remark, but the younger ranger simply laughed.

"My name is Thierry," the sandy haired man said, finally reining in his laughter. "You'll have to forgive Crispin. He was born without a sense of tact or civility."

"Pleased to meet you," Talia said, smiling across the table at the farm more sociable of the two men. "Will you be coming with us?"

"Unfortunately, I'll be heading north," the younger ranger answered with a shake of his head. "The orcs'll be coming down out of the mountains soon, and I'll be needed to watch the northwest border towns. But don't worry. I'm sure Crispin here'll warm to you eventually."

"I'm certain," Talia said, glancing dubiously to the older ranger. Crispin simply turned a disgusted expression to Thierry. The mage hesitated a moment longer, then began to organize some of the parchments. "Well, I know you don't have much of an interest in my ideas, Crispin, but maybe you could help me decide on a place to begin our search."

"If I knew what you were looking for, I'd be able to help," Crispin said. "But you don't have any idea what you're looking for."

"Well, let's start with the obvious," Talia said, unfurling one large parchment to reveal a map of Tourant. "The storms are moving southwest to northeast."

"Like I said, that's a lot of ground to cover," Crispin pointed out, motioning for a waitress to bring another mug of ale. "You want something to drink?"

"Do they serve wine here?" Talia inquired. Thierry managed to keep himself from laughing out loud, letting only a faint snicker escape his lips.

"Just a hard port wine," Crispin answered simply, examining the map as the waitress made her way to the table.

"That sounds… all right," Talia decided. Thierry nodded, and looked back to the waitress as she reached the group.

"Two more ales, and a glass of port," the younger ranger requested. The waitress nodded without saying a word, and disappeared back towards the bar.

"Like I said, the southwest is very vague," Crispin said, not taking his eyes from the map as he spoke to Talia. "No one has really been much further south and west than the loggers from the settlement of Falloux, which is right about here. If anyone has seen anything… unusual, these would be the people that would have seen it."

"And how far away is Falloux?" Talia asked, trying to judge the distance on the map. The city of Montcalm lay just to the southwest of the kingdom's center, but the area that Crispin had indicated was near the southwestern border, where the nation's boundaries flirted with the Khairathi Mountains.

"That's about four days' ride, under good conditions," Crispin answered. The waitress returned silently with their drinks, placing them on the table as Thierry graciously paid for the round. "Almost a hundred miles away. With heavy snow and poor visibility, it could take almost twice that long. And that's pushing the horses. And with you being you, it'll probably take closer to a week and a half to two weeks.

"And once we're there?" Talia asked, ignoring the ranger's implication that she would only slow him down.

"Then we can at least stay a night at their inn," Crispin replied. "Their ale is cheap, their food awful, but they at least keep a good fire burning all night."

"So we'd be able to reprovision there," Talia concluded, looking up at the ranger.

"Reprovision, or turn around and come back," Crispin answered, rubbing at the scars along the right side of his face. "Like I said, if anyone has seen anything, it would be the loggers at Falloux."

"What is to their southwest?" Talia inquired, gesturing to the very boundary of the kingdom on the map. Crispin picked up his tankard, and took a long drink.

"Nothing," the older ranger finally replied, setting the mug back on the table. "That's the end of civilization. Beyond Falloux you have forest, some scattered, inbred goblin bands, a couple of human or ogre barbarian clans, and the frost giants of Sarektjakka Peaks. But they aren't exactly the magic using type."

"But they could," Talia deduced. Crispin turned to her for a moment. "Use magic, I mean," the mage clarified.

"They could," Crispin admitted.

"What about that goblin fort?" Thierry inquired, pointing to a more southerly spot on the map. "About thirty miles south of Falloux. What was the name of that place? Really weird name."

"Przasnysz," Crispin answered. "They don't use magic, at least not that I've seen."

"What about that hunchbacked little bastard two years ago?" Thierry asked, a bit of a grin on his face. "The one that hit you point blank with three magic missiles."

"I buried my axe in his forehead," Crispin reminded the younger ranger. "He's probably not casting spells any more."

"Three magic missiles?" Talia repeated. "Three missiles at once?"

"Yeah," Crispin answered. "I was teaching this fool how to track when we stumbled across one of their raiding parties. Thierry finally managed to hit something other than me with a bow."

"What about the goblin wizard?" Talia pressed. "Three magic missiles? He'd have to be a fairly good mage to manage three missiles."

"Some few are," Crispin explained. "But the goblins of Przasnysz don't like magic on the whole. Krysztof's court wizards are good, but most goblins hate magic. They're suspicious of anyone that can cast."

"But it's still a possibility," Talia countered.

"They need the spring at least as much as we do," Crispin said, sidestepping a direct answer. "You can't raise food, or raid other people for food, if there's two feet of snow on the ground."

"But it's still possible," Talia pressed. Crispin stared at the young mange for a moment, a hint of disgust in his features.

"Yes, it's possible," the ranger finally conceded. "They'd be committing suicide, but it's still possible."

"Well, what about the human and orc clans?" Talia asked. "The barbarians."

"They hate magic too," Crispin said.

"He's right on that one," Thierry confirmed. "They've been known to lynch mages."

"But not shamans," Talia observed. Crispin appeared to be ready to protest, but realized that the young mage was correct.

"They have tribal elders," Thierry said. "Some of them worship the old gods, the gods of nature. But they would suffer at least as much as us from a long winter. They can't hunt if all the deer and elk are dying from cold and hunger."

"Well, it has to be someone," Talia pointed out.

"It doesn't have to be," Crispin argued. "You could be looking for an enemy that doesn't exist."

"Well, who do you think it is?" Talia asked, turning to Crispin as she finally picked up her glass of wine.

"I don't think it's anyone," the ranger answered. Talia scowled as she took a gulp of wine, but her irritation with Crispin's uncooperative demeanor vanished as she nearly spit the wine back into her glass.

"This is not wine," Talia gasped, almost choking with revulsion on the port.

"I should have warned you," Thierry said with a smirk. "They don't make very good wine down here. Almost no one drinks it, unless they import something from the north. And in this inn… well, let's just say that your wine has probably been fermenting in the cellar for three or four years."

"I'll keep that in mind," Talia said, pushing the glass away from her. With the wine out of the way, the mage turned back to her partner. "Just work with me for a moment, Crispin. If you thought that someone actually was behind this, who do you think it would be?"

"Someone that doesn't understand that they'll die without food come the spring," Crispin answered.

"So, you want to say the goblins?" Talia concluded.

"Sure," Crispin decided, more to end the conversation than to put forward any useful information. "It's as good a place as any to start.

"Then that's where we'll start," Talia said, ignoring her companion's skepticism. "We can head to Falloux, gather some information there, and then head south to this… Prisniz?"

"Przasnysz," Thierry corrected with a bit of a smile. "Goblin language is weird. Ask Crispin. He speaks it."

"Then I don't have to worry about a spell to translate," Talia said with a bit of a smile for her new partner. Crispin shook his head in irritation as he turned back to the map. "So we go to Falloux, and then move on to Pri… well, whatever that fort's name is. How long will it take from Falloux to the goblins?"

"High side of two days, again under the best conditions," Crispin replied, gesturing to the map. "By the time we reach the goblins, the weather'll break and it'll be spring."

"I hope so," Talia remarked. Crispin let out a sigh of resignation as he picked up his ale. "But just in case I'm not wrong, it won't hurt to check. I'd like to get started as soon as possible. Can you be ready by tomorrow morning?"

"Can you?" Crispin asked, turning to the mage.

"I spent today packing and preparing," Talia answered with a bit of a smile. "The marquis has provided me with my mount, some warm clothing, and rations for the trail. Despite your surly attitude, I also took the liberty of procuring rations for you. The marquis said you had your own horse, and that you were already prepared for such an endeavor."

"Unfortunately, the bastard is right," Crispin grumbled.

"Great," Talia said brightly, standing and rolling up the map. "Then I'll expect you at the keep's stables at sunrise?"

"Sure, whatever," Crispin muttered, waving the mage away. Talia gave Thierry one last, sunny smile, then turned and sauntered out of the tavern. Crispin watched her until she disappeared through the door, then turned back to Thierry.

"So I'll see you at the stables at sunrise?" the younger ranger asked, trying a horrible imitation of Talia's voice as he batted his eyelashes at Crispin.

"Shut up," Crispin grumbled, standing up and heading for the stairs to his room on the second floor.

_________________________________________________

"He wouldn't try to back out, would he?"

"He'll be here," Thierry said, standing just outside of the stables with Talia in the bright, cold morning. The sun had risen almost half an hour earlier, but still Crispin was nowhere to be seen. Despite the appearance of the sun, however, the day was bitterly cold, and the winds continued to come from the west. "You're cutting in on his down time, though. Almost every year, Crispin takes the first week or two of spring to do some heavy drinking at the Western Sun."

"You'd think he would try to find a better establishment to do his drinking," Talia said, drawing her cloak tightly around her as she continued to watch the west gate of the marquis' keep. "I hope he's not hung over."

"No, he's naturally belligerent," Thierry commented, absently checking some of his own equipment for his journey to the north. "But he's not a bad guy. He'll complain about it constantly, but he won't let a single thing happen to you."

"I still sort of wish you could trade places with him," Talia said, turning to the younger ranger. Thierry smiled, taking the statement as a simple compliment.

"Trust me, after a week and a half in the snow, you'll realize that he's the best there is," Thierry said. "He knows the land, and he knows how to live off it. And eventually, I bet he'll start warming up a little bit. He's got a thing for brown eyes. If you get in trouble with him, just bat your eyes."

"That's… good to know," Talia said, uncertain how to take the remark.

"Well, here he comes," Thierry said, making one last adjustment to the long sword belted on his hip. Talia turned back to the west gate just as Crispin strode into the courtyard, shouldering a magnificent long bow and carrying a pack and roll of blankets in his left hand. With his hood thrown back and his hair wild even by Crispin's standards, the surly ranger looked thoroughly angry at the early morning departure. "Morning, Crispin!" Thierry called out cheerfully as the ranger started to the pair. Crispin said nothing in reply, but tossed an odd wooden mask with only a slit to see through at Talia. The mage caught it easily, but turned a curious eye to the ranger as he plodded past her through the frozen mud to the stables. "Did you sleep well?"

"I'd still be sleeping well if it wasn't for this… expedition," Crispin called out over his shoulder as he entered the stables.

"He's not a morning person," Thierry commented as he and Talia started after the ranger. The two caught up to him just as Crispin reached his horse.

"What is this?" Talia asked, holding the mask out to Crispin.

"It's a snow mask," the ranger answered as he threw his saddle onto his horse and began to buckle the bindings. "You won't need it for much of the journey, but I'd advise you to use it if we cross any large fields. Since you don't travel much, it'll be pretty easy for you to get snow blindness."

"Snow blindness?" Talia repeated, a bit nervous.

"Yeah, snow blindness," Crispin repeated. Although she could not be certain, Talia almost thought that some of the surly irritation had disappeared from the older ranger's voice. "Sunshine reflects off of the snow and back into your eyes. For a little while it's okay, but after a few hours your eyes'll be in such bad shape that you can't see. That's snow blindness."

"It's not… permanent, is it?" Talia asked.

"No, it's not permanent," Crispin replied. "I'm glad to see you got some heavy leggings instead of that stupid dress, at any rate."

"Well, I thought the dress would be inappropriate," Talia said, glancing down once more at the heavy, fur lined boots and woolen tunic and leggings that the marquis had provided. To defend against the winds and swirling snow, she had also been given a thick, smoke colored cloak, far warmer and less obtrusive than the royal blue cape that she usually wore. Crispin turned back to her as he finished with his saddle, his eyes dropping quickly to her bare hands.

"You got gloves?" he asked simply.

"I need my hands free to cast," Talia explained.

"Not while you're riding you don't," Crispin countered. "Your hands'll freeze through after twenty minutes on the road, and then you won't be able to cast anyway. I know the marquis gave you gloves, so make sure they're on your hands before we leave. Understood?"

"Understood," Talia confirmed.

"So, go get your gloves," Crispin directed. Talia nodded, and hurried across the stables to her own horse and provisions. Thierry leaned on the timber railing for a moment as Crispin tied his pack and bedroll to the saddle.

"You sound like you're actually going to try to keep her alive," the younger ranger said. "You're not going soft, are you?"

"The last thing I need is to have to carry back a frozen Arcanist," Crispin replied. Thierry nodded, a ghost of a smirk on his face.

"She's got brown eyes," the younger ranger pointed out.

"I'm not blind," Crispin reminded him. "Don't you have any place to go?"

"Not yet," Thierry answered with a smile. "We leave at noon. Neuville wanted to sleep in, so he said to tell you good luck. You know how he is. He makes you seem friendly."

"Tell him the same," Crispin said. "And you too. I don't want to hear that you two embarrassed me by getting yourselves killed by a miserable, inbred band of orcs that couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a bow."

"Yeah, your reputation would be ruined," Thierry said with a broad smile. "Don't worry. We'll see you back here in about two months. And you can tell me all about your adventures with Mistress Talia of the Arcanists' Guild."

"It was a mistake to ever train you," Crispin grumbled, leading his horse out of the stable. Talia was already waiting just beyond the stable's ring of mud, her horse's reins in her hand.

"We're ready then?" the mage inquired expectantly.

"Just to be certain, you do know how to ride," Crispin said.

"I've done it a few times," Talia answered, a sarcastic tone to her voice. Crispin took a deep breath, and turned to mount his horse.

"This is going to be a long trip," the ranger stated as he pulled himself into the saddle.


	5. A Howl in the Distance

****

IV

"S-S-Shouldn't we s-stop now?"

"We've got about a quarter of a mile to go," Crispin replied, not even looking back over his shoulder. The ranger was almost a dozen paces ahead, guiding his horse down the winding Timber Road that led to the southwestern logging settlements, but the still, utterly silent night that had descended upon the road made the pair's voices travel easily across the distance between them.

"T-To where?" Talia asked, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. During the first day of travel, the weather had been cold, but the Timber Road had been lined with inns, farms, and taverns where Talia had been able to stop for a few minutes to warm herself near a fire. Now, after nearly two full days on the road, the weather was turning even colder, and only trees lined the Timber Road. The clear sky above allowed the three quarter moon and a myriad of stars to brightly illuminate the road, negating the need for a torch or lantern, but the soft light offered no warmth to the frozen mage. Even with her cloak wrapped tightly about her, her hood drawn tightly over her head, and a thick scarf wound around her neck to her chin, Talia could still keep out enough of the cold to make her the least bit comfortable. "It's already d-dark, and we don't even have any f-firewood."

"You want to sleep outside in the cold, or do you want to spend the night in a warm bed?" Crispin asked in reply, his voice holding a bit of irritability. 

"As long as it's not t-too far away," Talia answered, spurring her horse to catch up with the ranger. As she drew even with him, Crispin glanced over to his companion.

"A little cold?" the ranger inquired. Talia simply stared at the man for a moment, uncertain if the question was meant as a joke. "You look nice with blue lips."

"When do we g-get to this warm b-bed?" Talia asked miserably. Almost as if on cue, the mage caught the smell of woodsmoke on a gentle breeze.

"Very soon," Crispin answered. "We get over that hill and we'll be able to see Mattin."

"A town?" Talia asked, looking back to the gently rising road ahead of them. "I don't remember a town on the m-map around here."

"That's because it's not a town," Crispin explained. Despite the frosty night air, the ranger seemed not to even notice the dropping temperature. "It's a way station for loggers and traders traveling along the road, nothing more than an inn with a few barracks that the Lancers or the regular army use when they need to gather in numbers here. Only six people live here year round."

"As long as there's a fire at the inn," Talia said, thankful that there was an inn somewhere ahead. In her current condition, all that mattered was a warm fire, and hopefully some hot tea. Unconsciously the mage spurred her horse slightly, wanting to reach Mattin before she froze through completely. Crispin nudged his own mount to keep up, and swiftly the pair reached the top of the last rise blocking their view of the way station.

Mattin was, as Crispin had said, not a town; the moonlight glittered off of five snow covered roofs clustered along the northern side of the Timber Road against a thick forest of spruce, pine, and oak, but only the largest structure showed signs of life. The inn was a large, two story building with a slightly peaked roof, its central, circular chimney loosing a plume of white smoke into the air. Three windows on the first floor spilled light onto the ground outside, turning patches of snow into sparkling pools of gold. A second wisp of smoke rose up from just behind the inn, evidence of a stable set on the west side of the building. Without a second thought Talia started her horse onward, until she was almost galloping down the hill to the cheerful inn below. Crispin followed along at a decidedly slower pace, shaking his head with a bit of a smirk at his companion's eagerness to get out of the cold.

A second later he had stopped his horse, all thoughts of Talia lost as he stared down at the ground. The snow on the Timber Road had remained unbroken but for a few deer tracks for over a day, but now the moonlight reflected off of an uneven depression along the edge of the forest. It had been a fluke that he had even noticed the tracks, but now he could not tear his eyes from them. Slowly the ranger dropped out of the saddle, oblivious to Talia's race for warmth as he knelt in the ankle deep snow and examined the imprints in the white powder. At first he hoped the large paw marks had been left by a simple wolf, but the tracks were too large and too widely spaced for even the largest timber wolf.

Crispin stood again after a long moment, glancing uneasily into the inky forest beyond the road as his hand dropped instinctively to the sword on his belt. In the stark, ghostly light of the moon, the ranger could just make out the beast's stride, larger than even the pace of the worgs that goblins often used as mounts, disappearing into the pine and spruce forest to the north. Somewhere far off in the distance, the ranger thought for a moment that he heard the trace of a mournful howl, but it was too faint to even tell if he had not imagined the sound. Finally, Crispin mounted his horse again, and finished the journey to Mattin with one eye on the forest.

_________________________________________________

"I thought maybe you were going to spend the night on the road."

"Something caught my attention," Crispin said as he led his horse into the makeshift stables set against the side of the inn. The way station's stable was nothing more than a thatched roof above a single rail where more than a dozen horses could be tied for the night, but only half as many took shelter from the weather as Crispin handed his mount's reins over to a heavily clothed boy that could be no older than ten or eleven. "Shouldn't you be in bed, Rojer?"

"I would be, sir, but papa said that two more travelers were coming," the boy replied, smiling up at the far larger ranger.

"Your father should know that I can stable my own horse," Crispin said, rubbing the boy's sandy hair as he wrapped the reins around the rail.

"He never saw you, really," Rojer explained as he turned back to the ranger. "Only the lady. So he told me to come out and take her horse."

"Well, stay inside for the rest of the night," Crispin said, reaching into a small pouch on his belt and taking out a silver piece. "Are you still saving your money?"

"Yes sir," Rojer said, sounding a bit eager.

"Well, add this to your savings," Crispin said. "And when you buy your bow, let me know."

"Thank you, sir!" Rojer exclaimed, snatching the silver from Crispin's gloved hand. "Won't be long now, especially if winter breaks!"

"Get inside and get some sleep," Crispin said, waving off the gratitude. Rojer nodded and rushed back into the inn, leaving the ranger alone with Talia for the moment next to the tiny hearth fire that warmed the horses.

"He really takes a shine to you," Talia commented, smiling at the ranger.

"You didn't have to wait out here for me," Crispin said. "I thought you were cold."

"I'm freezing," Talia replied. "But I thought I would be courteous. I guess you're here often?"

"Not that often," Crispin said, gesturing for Talia to lead the way to the front door. "But often enough to know the family that lives here."

"So what'd you stop for on the road?" Talia asked as they reached the front door.

"Inside," Crispin said, taking off his gloves and knocking the snow from his boots against the inn's stone wall. Talia nodded, and quickly entered the building.

The interior of the inn was brightly lit by a variety of lanterns and candles, and the warmth of the hearth fire set in the center of the building radiated out to the very corners of the common room. Only a half dozen tables were set on the rough plank floor of the inn, only a fraction of the size of the Western Sun. Five men occupied one table set close to the fire, while another two men, most likely loggers from a nearby camp, sipped ale on the opposite side of the room. As Crispin noticed the larger group, wearing the surcoats of the Tourant Lancers, the ranger sighed in resignation.

"Have we seen those guys before?" Talia asked, genuinely uncertain as to the identity of the five men. As the two travelers hesitated inside the door, one of the Lancers looked up, and a smile broke out on his unshaven face. The man's dark, almost menacing eyes were a sure reminder of the group she had seen in the Western Sun two nights ago.

"Yes, we've seen them before," Crispin confirmed as the dark haired leader of the group locked eyes with the ranger. Emeri seemed to be ready to confront the two newcomers, but a loud, cheerful voice broken the slowly increasing tension between the two men.

"Crispin! What are you doing back here already?" Prejet du Mattin exclaimed, rushing out of the kitchen set beyond the hearth. The heavyset, sandy haired man threw himself around the ranger in a quick embrace, then backed off a step. "I thought you were going to drink yourself under a table in Montcalm!"

"Well, I was, but the marquis had something better for me to do," Crispin answered with a shrug. "Prejet du Mattin, this is Talia of the Arcanists' Guild."

"Lovely to meet you! Lovely!" Prejet said, taking Talia's hand and shaking vigorously the instant she had pulled off her gloves. "Please, take whichever table you like! Your first ales are on me!"

"Where are your manners, Prejet?" a woman called from the kitchen before Talia could ask for tea rather than ale. Like Prejet, the woman was faintly heavy, but seemed to be slightly younger than the forty or more winters that Prejet had apparently seen. "Offer them something warm! Crispin may think the weather is fine, but his poor companion is blue with cold!"

"I was about to ask if they would prefer tea, Yvonne," Prejet said, his cheery demeanor souring slightly with his wife's admonishment. "Remember that I have run a tavern for some twenty years now, dear."

"And who do you think taught you to be nice to the customers?" Yvonne inquired irritably. "You had all the manners of a troll when you first opened this inn!"

"I still can't figure out how the two of you have managed not to kill each other over the years," Crispin remarked, catching Prejet's attention before the innkeeper could turn on his wife. Prejet smiled at the remark, and shrugged his shoulders.

"It takes time, but I've become used to her," the man said. "At any rate, would you like some tea or stew? Both are fresh off the fire and piping hot!"

"Yes, please," Talia said, shaking off her heavy cloak and hanging it on a peg near the door. Crispin did likewise as Prejet hurried back to the kitchen, restarting the argument with his wife as the two disappeared behind the wall. "Can we take a table next to the fire, or will we have trouble with our friends?"

"No, a table next to the fire would be fine," Crispin answered, his attention back to Emeri as the Lancer leaned back in his chair. The ranger casually strode across the tavern floor and propped his long bow against the corner of the stone hearth, then pulled out a chair only a few feet from the Lancers and dropped easily into the seat to watch the fire. Talia made her way to the seat on Crispin's right, making certain that she could see Emeri and all of his lackeys at once.

"I thought this was your time to get drunk," Emeri said casually, still not taking his eyes from Crispin.

"Not this year," the ranger replied simply. "I thought you were going to stay in Montcalm for a few days."

"We left yesterday morning, just before first light," Emeri informed him. "Nothing doing in Montcalm with the snow falling, anyway."

"Well, there's not many traders to raid down here," Crispin said. One of the Lancers, a burly young man with a long mane of unruly blond hair, began to stand, but Crispin turned immediately to him. "Don't do anything stupid, Gaston."

"Sit down, Gaston," Emeri ordered. The Lancer glared at Crispin for another moment, but then did as he was told. Emeri looked back to Crispin, and shook his head. "We are Tourant Lancers, Crispin," the patrol leader explained. "We don't rob the people we're supposed to protect."

"Of course not," Crispin said sardonically.

"Well, what are you doing here?" Emeri inquired. "Run out of goblin skulls to polish?"

"Just doing some scouting," Crispin replied. "How'd you get here? I didn't see your tracks on the Timber Road."

"We came in from the north," a third Lancer replied. Crispin had known the old, weatherbeaten Fleury for a number of years, a tough soldier with close cropped, salt and pepper hair that had served in the Lancers for over a decade, and with the Tourant Army before that. "Someone said a white wolf was killing their sheep. But we saw nothing all day. We'll be heading out again tomorrow, back to the north, but Prejet serves better food and ale than the villagers in Taureau."

"A white wolf," Crispin repeated thoughtfully. "Very big?"

"You can't tell with farmers," Gaston said. "Said it was big as a horse."

"A winter wolf," Crispin concluded. Bayard and Giraume, two Lancers that had recently joined Emeri's squad, glanced to each other uneasily, but their leader simply shook his head.

"They only come down out of the mountains in the dead of winter," the Lancer said. "And even then, they're not common."

"It's cold enough for one right now," Crispin countered. He hesitated for a moment, then continued. "And I found some tracks on the hill."

"A worg scout from a goblin clan," Emeri said, dismissing the tracks as inconsequential. Crispin shook his head. "Okay. We'll keep a look out for it. But I ain't seen a trace of it yet."

"Sorry about the wait," Prejet said, coming back out of the kitchen with two empty cups and a copper tea pot. The innkeeper raised his voice deliberately as he set the cups on the table and poured the tea. "But some women cannot understand the finer points of running a kitchen."

"I heard that, you pot bellied moron!" Yvonne shouted from inside the kitchen. "You better not come back in here, or I'll take a frying pan to that ugly face of yours!"

"Another lover's spat, Prejet?" Emeri guessed, a smirk on his face. Prejet shot the Lancer an obviously false smile, then turned back to Crispin.

"The stew will be ready… shortly," the innkeeper said, glancing nervously to the kitchen door. "Celia will bring it out, I'm sure."

"That's fine," Crispin said, leaning back in his chair. Talia was already sipping away at her tea, accepting a faintly scalded tongue in order to return some heat to her body. "By the way, has anyone come through from Falloux or Sauveterre over the least couple of weeks?"

"No, but the snow has been heavy," Prejet replied. "They have probably not even begun logging yet. Is something wrong?"

"Probably not, but I thought I'd ask," Crispin said. "Winter's running a little late, and apparently Emeri and his men are chasing a winter wolf."

"That's what he thinks," Emeri put in. "It's probably just some worg with a light coat that got away from its goblin master. We should set you loose on it, Crispin."

"It's your problem right now," Crispin said. Then he turned back to Prejet. "Keep your family inside tonight. I found tracks on the hill. Fairly fresh."

"Thanks for the warning," Prejet said, growing serious. The innkeeper started back to the kitchen without another word. As Prejet disappeared and the Lancers finally began to return to their own quiet conversation, Talia set her tea down and turned to the ranger.

"You… don't think winter wolves could be behind this, do you?" the mage asked, leaning forward on the table and lowering her voice. Crispin turned a thoroughly aggravated gaze on her. "Well, I mean, I don't know much about winter wolves, but-"

"No, they couldn't," Crispin interrupted. "Winter wolves only follow the storms. They don't have any control over weather at all, and they cannot learn any spells that would grant them control over the weather. And besides, it's only one winter wolf. Every once in a while a winter wolf gets lost or simply follows a storm down from the mountains. Now please, Talia, let it go."

"Fine," Talia grumbled, taking up her tea once more. After another minute of silence, a young woman came out of the kitchen, carrying two bowls of hot stew and a loaf of bread.

"Thank you, Celia," Crispin said as the blond waitress set the food down on the table with a smile. "How's your father holding up in there?"

"He always manages to live through her rampages," Celia said with a smile. "She'll wear herself out throwing the pots around, and then he'll make some stupid apology. You've seen it all before."

"Where's Noelle, Celia?" Emeri asked, interrupting the ranger's conversation. Celia looked up, her smile fading slightly as she regarded the Lancer.

"Prettying herself up for you," the waitress answered. "Though I don't know why she bothers with you at all."

"She has better taste than you do, that's why," Emeri replied with a bit of a laugh. Celia shot a cold glare at the Lancer, then turned and headed back for the kitchen just as Yvonne opened up with a fresh barrage of rattling cookware on her husband. Crispin smiled at the racket as he tore off a hunk of bread and dipped it into his stew.

"I never get tired of this place," the ranger commented before tearing into his food. Talia cast one glance back to the doorway, trying to see the brawl going on inside the kitchen, then cautiously started into her own meal.

_________________________________________________

It was still dark when Talia suddenly awoke. Although the heavy shutters were still closed over the tiny window in their room, Talia could still see her breath steam up in the darkness, evidence of the deep chill that permeated the building. Prejet's older son, Helier, had brought a pot of embers to the room just before she and Crispin had gone to sleep, but they had long since turned to cold ashes. Slowly the mage sat up in her bed, pulling her thick woolen blankets with her to ward off the cold.

Crispin still slept in his bed on the other side of the tiny room, silent and unmoving under his own blankets. Talia wondered if the ranger had said or done something in his sleep to stir her, but her companion lay as still as the dead. The only evidence that he was still alive was the faint cloud of steam rolling from his partially open mouth. After a moment of debating if she should wake the ranger, Talia finally decided against such an act, thinking that nothing more than the cold had awoken her. Even in Montcalm, Talia had a fireplace in her room to keep the cold at bay during the region's harsh winters. The mage sank back down into her bed, closing her eyes again to catch one or two more hours of sleep before the sun rose.

A low, mournful howl carried into the room, just loud enough for the mage to be certain that it was not her imagination. Quickly the mage sat up in bed again, her mind racing for a spell in case a wolf should try to attack the inn. Talia remained bolt upright in bed for what felt like an hour, listening for the howl and once again considering waking her sleeping guide. Finally, realizing that it was foolish to think that a wolf would attack a building, the mage sank back into her bed, trying to disregard the howl and go back to sleep.

She was still lying awake when the first lights of dawn began to creep through the shutters an hour later.

_________________________________________________

"What are you doing?"

"Keeping a journal of our expedition," Talia replied without looking up. She continued to scribble with a feathered quill into a small book as she answered her companion's idle question. "This way, when we return, I'll be able to present my findings to the Arcanists' Guild in an organized manner. Please don't block the light from the window."

"Just tell them you found out that Tourant has long winters," Crispin said, reluctantly shifting in his seat to allow what little light entered from the east windows of the common room. The sun had only just appeared over the horizon, but already Prejet was rekindling the fire in the common room's hearth as the two travelers started into a breakfast of hot waffles and a few overripe apples. Talia looked up from her book with a bit of a smile.

"If that's the case, my study will document that," the mage explained. Crispin shrugged in indifference as he took one of the half dozen waffles that Celia had brought them. "At any rate," Talia continued, turning back to her journal, "I like to keep notes on my research. That way, I can't forget anything."

"I hope you mention my inn in a favorable light," Prejet said, standing from the hearth. "It would be good for business, to be endorsed by a member of the Arcanists' Guild."

"Ever the businessman," Crispin said with a smirk. "Is the bacon done?"

"Celia's probably burning it," Prejet answered. The innkeeper looked back to the door as it opened, allowing Rojer inside.

"Papa, I found wolf tracks outside," the boy said. "Right up to the door."

"Up to the door?" Prejet repeated, curious. Crispin looked up as well, setting his waffle back on the plate. "A bold one. Must have smelled the food inside."

"He would have gone to the back for food," the ranger said, standing. Talia looked up from her work.

"I heard a wolf this morning," the mage said, "but I thought he was far off. How many wolves are in this area?"

"Plenty," Crispin said absently, already making his way to the front door. "Rojer, you said right up to the front door?"

"Yes sir," the boy answered, following the ranger into the snow. The sun in the east threw a brilliant light over the snowy landscape, but leaden clouds were sweeping in again from the west with another storm. Crispin took notice of the weather for only a second before Rojer pointed out the tracks in the snow. "Right here."

"Big wolf," Crispin said, kneeling next to one of the clearer tracks. The ranger scanned the snow around him, picking out the path of the tracks, then stood and brushed the snow from his knees as Talia came to the door. "Tracks are too big for a timber wolf, and the strides are too long for a worg. That's Emeri's winter wolf."

"A winter wolf?" Prejet repeated, joining the group. "What about the horses? Did anyone check the horses?"

"Not yet," Crispin answered, starting around to the side of the inn. "I doubt the wolf came around the side, though. We would have heard the horses during the night."

"What about the horses?" Emeri called from the common room. The Lancer pushed his way past Talia in his hurry to join Crispin, and after a moment's hesitation the mage followed the pair to the stable.

The horses were still alive and unscathed inside the stable. Talia let out a sigh of relief as Emeri and Crispin gave the mounts a more thorough examination, but the winter wolf had apparently left the inn without attacking anyone or anything. Assured that his horse was untouched, Emeri turned to Crispin.

"What, it just came up to the door, and then left?" the Lancer asked. "Without doing a single thing?"

"It must have been checking out the competition last night," Crispin said. "Seeing if we were worth the attack."

"So it decided that we were too tough, right?" Talia asked nervously. Crispin shrugged.

"Probably," the ranger answered, most of his attention still on the forest around them. "Either that, or it could have been a scout."

"A scout?" Talia repeated.

"Well, they do sometimes travel in packs," Crispin explained. "It's easier to bring down prey as a pack, rather than a lone hunter."

"You're full of good news," Emeri said sarcastically. "I'd still love to know what it's doing this far east."

"Following the storms," Crispin replied, gesturing to the line of clouds in the distance. "He'll be around for a few days, then head back to the mountains when the storms end."

"Not if we find it first," Emeri said, patting the head of the mace that hung on his belt. Crispin stifled a bit of a chuckle at the Lancer's bravado.

"So what do we do?" Talia asked, glancing to the edge of the forest nervously.

"We finish breakfast," Crispin replied, walking past her and heading for the door. "My waffles are getting cold."


	6. First Blood

**V**

Although the clouds had threatened snow for the entire day, by nightfall only a faint flurry drifted down on the Timber Road as Crispin led his horse to a small, rocky outcropping set back a few yards into the forest. Talia remained on the road as her guide dismounted and examined the small clearing set against a thick backdrop of trees, holding down a shiver as another light gust of wind blew down the road from the west. Without the moon or stars in the sky, Talia could barely see the ranger as he rummaged through his saddlebags for a moment.

"There wouldn't happen to be an inn somewhere nearby, would there?" the mage inquired, hoping that she would not have to spend a night out in the cold. Her voice carried easily through the still air, sounding almost unnaturally loud in the otherwise silent forest.

"This is it," Crispin answered, starting to scoop snow away from something on the ground. "Why don't you tether the horses while I see about a fire?"

"Oh, sure," Talia said, sliding down out of the saddle and leading her horse to a large, broken pine. With her own horse secure, the mage turned back to Crispin's mount and did likewise, stumbling through the snow and nearly tripping on hidden rocks and branches along the way. Finally, Talia turned back to Crispin, but the ranger had vanished in the minute that she had turned her back to him. Quickly the mage spun around, but her guide had disappeared completely into the trees.

A loud snap, somewhere just beyond her feeble night vision, nearly caused Talia's heart to stop. Frantically the mage raced through her mind, searching for some kind of spell to help her see through the inky night, but a darkvision spell was one thing that she belatedly wished that she had studied. A second snap nearly had the mage running for the Timber Road and the distant inn at Mattin, but Talia swallowed her fear and took a hesitant step forward.

"Crispin?" the mage called out nervously, edging closer to where her companion had been.

"What?" Crispin asked irritably, still nowhere in sight. Talia breathed out a sigh of relief as she put her hand to her racing heart.

"You're making a racket," the mage remarked, turning back to her horse and searching for her heavy blanket. The snapping was replaced by a series of sharp cracks as Crispin hacked away at something with his hand axe.

"If you want a fire, you'll deal with it," the ranger grumbled, still working in the darkness. "Take the spade I left by the fire ring and finish clearing it out, or at least try to find some wood yourself."

"You got it," Talia said, easily finding the half dug fire ring and swiftly finishing the job. Crispin appeared as she stood from the ring and scanned her surroundings, looking for any kind of shelter from the elements. "Um, do we have a tent, or something?"

"A tent?" Crispin repeated, a bit surprised. "No. We sleep under the stars."

"What if it snows?" Talia asked. Crispin studied the cloudy sky for a moment, then shook his head.

"Won't bring much snow until tomorrow, most likely," the ranger decided. "And if it does get too heavy, we'll move back under the trees."

"Away from the fire?" Talia concluded. Crispin took a deep breath as he considered the question.

"It's not that far away," the ranger said. "Look, if you want to go back to Mattin or Montcalm and get a tent, that's fine by me. I'm making a fire and getting some sleep tonight."

"What about wolves?" Talia asked as Crispin began to arrange the branches he had taken from the forest. "I mean, you said there was a winter wolf out here somewhere."

"Look, if you don't stop asking questions, I'm going to find that winter wolf and feed you to him," Crispin said, growing more and more impatient with the arcanist's constant inquiries. As the mage fell silent, Crispin turned all of his attention back to the fire ring, and within minutes he was quickly adding sticks and small branches to the swiftly growing fire. As the flames began to brighten the small clearing, Crispin dropped back on his heels in satisfaction, holding his hands over the small fire. Finally, the ranger looked back over his shoulder, to see Talia sullenly trying to brush a last bit of snow from the ground only a few feet away. "Come on over and warm up a little. You'll have plenty of time to finish that up."

"I didn't think you wanted my company," Talia huffed, not even casting a sideways glance at the ranger.

"Suit yourself," Crispin said, allowing the heat to soak into his partially frozen beard and face. The ranger added a couple more branches to the fire, then stood up and brushed a little bit of snow from his knees. "We'll need more wood," the ranger surmised, glancing at his meager fuel pile. "I'll be back in a few minutes. If you want, take some green branches off a pine tree, and use it as bedding. It'll help insulate you a little from the ground."

"Thanks," Talia said curtly, still not paying attention to her guide. Crispin shrugged once more, then disappeared into the darkness with his hand axe. As soon as he had left the circle of light thrown off by the small fire, the ranger glanced back to see Talia give up trying to completely clear the ground and move next to the fire. With an amused shake of his head, Crispin started off into the darkness towards a large, dead spruce that he had found on his first search for dry wood.

He returned a little less than half an hour later, dragging several large branches behind him, to find Talia adding the last of the fuel he had gathered earlier to the fire. Sitting on a rock next to the coals was a small copper pot, and the mage had taken two wooden cups from her pack.

"Tea?" Crispin assumed, dropping the branches next to the fire.

"A peace offering," Talia corrected, carefully picking up the pot with a gloved hand. Crispin looked over to her quizzically as he began to strip the smaller branches from a bough. "Look, I know you don't like me," Talia continued, seeing the ranger's confusion. "I know you think we're out here looking for nothing. Thierry told me you like to get some rest at the Western Sun about this time of year, and I apologize for having dragged you out of your time off. But please, Crispin, at least try to get along with me. You've been nothing but cruel to me since we started this trip. Please, let's just pretend that we're friends until this is all over. Please?"

Crispin stared at the young woman for a long moment, then looked back to the axe in his hand as he considered her statement. Finally, Crispin dropped the bough on the ground again and hooked his axe in the loop on his belt.

"Look, Talia, I don't hate you," the ranger finally said. "You're probably a very nice person. But you should not be out here. I've met all sorts of wizards, Arcanists, and city loving folk, and every time they get out here they want all the beauty and no hassle. I'm sick of being a babysitter for people that wouldn't last one night out here without ten porters and a local tavern. Just like those damn mapmakers that wanted me to show them around, cook for them, start all their fires, and set up their shelters. And when they weren't bossing me around, they were always complaining about the weather, or the lack of inns, or the wolves at night. And you, well, you have us out here in the middle of late season storms, and even you don't know what you're looking for. The southwest is a very big place."

"Then help me, Crispin," Talia countered, almost pleading. "Show me what I have to do to survive out here. Help me figure out what it is that I'm looking for. Everyone in Montcalm seems to think you're the best there is when it comes to the southwest, so please, just help me!"

"Pour the tea, Talia," Crispin said simply, unhooking his axe again and finishing off the branch that he had dropped. Talia hesitated a long moment, waiting for something more from the ranger, but he simply continued to hack away at the smaller branches and throw a few on the fire. Finally, shaking her head in resignation, the mage poured out two cups of tea, and placed one on the stones in front of the ranger. Crispin dropped the bough and picked up his tea, sipping the liquid as he stared into the fire for a long moment.

"All the signs indicated an early spring," Crispin said thoughtfully. Talia had begun to turn away from her guide, but she looked back to the ranger in surprise as he spoke.

"That's what I've been trying to say," Talia said eagerly, trying to keep the conversation going. "The winds are pushing against the storms, but they keep coming! And they're getting nothing if not worse!"

"Look, Talia, you seem to be a pretty smart woman," Crispin said. "But you're asking for my help, and refusing to believe anything I say."

"You keep telling me that these storms are nothing out of the ordinary," Talia said.

"And I still think that," Crispin pointed out. "But even if these storms actually are unnatural, you want to look in all the wrong places."

"Then tell me where to look," Talia said, sliding a little closer to the ranger. "Don't keep telling me that I'm crazy."

"All right," Crispin said. He sat back for a moment, sipping some more of his tea. "First off, forget the goblins. They're raiders and thieves. It's hard to raid when there are no caravans on the road, and it's hard to raid for food when no one can grow any. The same goes for the barbarian tribes. They need the spring even more than we do. Beyond that, the barbarians have begun some trade with the western settlements. Not much, but a little. They stand nothing to gain by bringing an unnatural winter to Tourant."

"What about the frost giants?" Talia asked. Crispin shook his head.

"They have no reason to bring winter down here," the ranger answered. "They're rarely seen beyond the Sarektjakka Peaks as it is. They may occasionally raid western Tourant during the winter, but they would be wasting all of their magic on us for no apparent gain."

"Don't the barbarians have cults of winter?" Talia asked.

"Not any more," Crispin answered. "A hundred years ago, maybe, but not any more. The rest of the barbarians couldn't take it. Cults of winter tended to destroy all of their food, thinning out herds and killing the plants that they gathered. If a new cult were to be behind this, they probably would have already been destroyed."

"So who are we looking for?" Talia asked.

"I don't know," Crispin answered. "If there is someone behind this, it would have to be a rogue mage with some serious problems. I can't think of anyone else with the means and the reason to do this. When we get to Falloux, I guess we can ask if they've seen anything unusual, but I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you. If it's a rogue mage, I can't see him coming out to announce himself to the people he's trying to freeze out. If nothing pans out there, I can think of a handful of places that might make a decent natural fortress on the edge of the Khairathi. Barbarians used to use a couple of ridges and hills in the Khairathi foothills as natural keeps, or as a place to ride out severe winters. A rogue mage or a cult of winter would need some kind of defensible position. We can check there, but if they don't pan out, we go back to Montcalm and you accept the fact that weather can't always be predicted."

"That suits me fine," Talia said. The ranger nodded, and slurped down the last of his tea. "Crispin?"

"Yeah," Crispin said, looking back to the mage. Talia hesitated for a moment, but then smiled slightly and batted her eyes at him.

"Thank you," she said. Crispin's hard stare softened for a moment at the act, but then the ranger quickly stood and grabbed his axe.

"You're welcome," Crispin said with a faintly awkward tone as he went back to work on the branches. "You should get some sleep. Tomorrow's not going to be as nice a day as this was."

_________________________________________________

"Should we be traveling in this weather?"

"It's just snowing," Crispin said, turning to Talia as the young mage brought her horse alongside his mount. The storms that had been moving in from the mountains had finally reached them at midday, and the snow and wind had rapidly begun to build in intensity. Now, with no sun to brighten the day and the snow and wind dropping visibility to a mere twenty yards or so, Talia could not even be certain that they remained on the Timber Road. "Besides," Crispin continued, looking to the mage, "where would you have us stop? We're already more than twenty miles from Mattin, and the next inn along this road is in Falloux."

"Falloux is still a day away?" Talia asked, looking back to the road ahead of them. A gust of wind whipped up the snow into her face, forcing her to take cover inside the hood of her cloak.

"That's right," Crispin answered, simply squinting into the harsh winds. "We'd have made it late tomorrow morning if the snows weren't so bad. There's a thick stand of spruce that we can use about four miles ahead as a camp for the night. Hopefully, the last people through were nice enough to leave us a little bit of firewood."

"What if they didn't?" Talia asked, growing uneasy at the thought of freezing to death in the middle of nowhere.

"Well, we'll just have to gather some of our own," Crispin answered. "We should be able to reach the camp by nightfall."

"And you can start a fire in this weather, right?" Talia asked. Crispin turned a weary glare on her, but said nothing. "I was just checking."

"You sure you don't want to turn around and go home?" the ranger asked after another minute had passed.

"Positive," Talia answered in an irksome tone.

"I was just checking," Crispin said with a touch of humor. "I think your lips are turning blue again."

"I'm fine," Talia said stubbornly, despite the fact that the cold was indeed getting to her once more. Even through her heavy woolen clothing and thick gloves, the mage could barely feel her hands or feet, and the icy wind was slowly sapping her strength. Talia glanced back to Crispin, ready to convince him that she was not as cold as she felt, when she noticed that the ranger had stopped in the middle of the road. Talia pulled her own mount to a stop, but Crispin said nothing to her as he continued to stare absently ahead into the swirling squall. Talia opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but the ranger held up a gloved hand for silence before she could speak. The two sat in silence on their horses for what felt like several minutes, listening to the falling snow and the gusts of wind that pushed east along the road.

"Get off your horse," Crispin finally ordered, sliding down out of the saddle and pulling his long bow free of its case.

"What is it?" Talia asked quietly, glancing around nervously.

"Just get off your horse," Crispin said, his attention on the forest in front of them. "And get ready to cast. Can you throw a fireball?"

"A lightning bolt," Talia answered, anxiously pulling off her gloves. Crispin groaned in disgust. Talia quickly began to scan the dark trees around them as Crispin nocked an arrow, but the mage could see nothing through the swirling snow, or hear anything other than the occasional creaking of the trees under the accumulating snow. Crispin still remained silent and still, little more than a statue collecting snow next to his waiting horse. Slowly the mage began to turn in a circle, trying to find anything in the gloomy forest that could have spooked her guide.

A terrible growl rumbled through the silence, sending a spike of fear through the mage. Talia turned quickly back to Crispin just as the ranger loosed a pair of arrows on what could only be a winter wolf. The arrows struck the huge, pure white canine as it leapt into the air with a bloodcurdling howl, ready to bowl Crispin over with its charge, but the ranger ducked and rolled forward under the monster's outstretched claws and cruel fangs at the last instant. The mere sight of the gigantic canine, easily as big as the villagers of Taureau had described to Emeri's Lancers, froze the young mage in horror even as Crispin drew his long sword and hand axe to face the monstrous wolf in close combat. The ranger glanced over to her as he regained his feet and the wolf whirled on him, and he quickly waved his sword in her direction.

"Behind you!" the ranger shouted. The words jolted Talia back into action, and the mage spun to see another of the monsters sprinting at her from the screen of trees along the edge of the road. Frantically Talia tried to remember the words to a spell that could save her, but the horrifying specter of the wolf bearing down on her stole coherent thought from her mind. Desperately the mage turned to flee, but she only made it four steps before the wolf's jaws clamped down on her leg.

Talia screamed in pain as she tumbled into the snow, brought down in a cloud of icy frost issuing from the wolf's mouth. With her legs frozen and torn by the winter wolf's fangs, the mage desperately threw herself onto her back to try to meet the wolf's next assault. The huge beast lunged at her throat, intending to finish the mage with a single strike, but Talia somehow managed to scramble to the side as it plunged its muzzle into the now bloodstained snow. The wolf snarled and turned quickly on the mage, but Talia had finally managed to regain enough of her wits to frantically tear through her first spell.

The wolf was already driving toward her, but Talia somehow managed to find the tiny glass rod in her belt pouch and point it toward the beast before it could reach her. A bolt of lightning blasted forward from her outstretched hand, slamming through the charging wolf and hurling it ten feet away from the mage. The smoking wolf staggered back to its feet almost as soon as it had landed, however, growling at her as it stalked in once more. Again Talia fumbled through her belt pouch for her spell components, rapidly coming up with a pinch of brimstone and some iron dust and flying through a second spell. The winter wolf hesitated as a ball of fire, taller than the mage, erupted into life directly in front of Talia, melting the snow around it instantly into a thick cloud of steam. Talia breathed a sigh of relief at the success of the makeshift barrier, but her respite was shortlived as the heavy snow quickly doused the flaming sphere. The wolf charged forward again at full speed as soon as the flames died out, intent on finishing the mage before she could cast any more spells. Talia hurriedly cast one last spell, sending three magic missiles unerringly into her opponent, but the wolf barely even slowed its charge. Before she could try to drag herself out of the way or defend herself, the wolf slammed into her chest, driving the wind from her lungs as it tore through her heavy tunic. Collapsing under the assault, the last thing Talia saw was the wolf rearing back, its mouth filling with frost and ice.

_________________________________________________

It might not have been a worg, but it was close enough.

Crispin feinted left and then struck right, tearing another line of blood across his attacker's flank before the winter wolf could react to his deception. With so much experience fighting worgs and winter wolves, Crispin could nearly anticipate the monster's every move, reacting to each snap of the wolf's teeth with a devastating counter. Already the wolf bore a half dozen wounds from the ranger's sword and hand axe, limping on one crippled front leg as it tried to back away from its deadly opponent. Crispin matched the magical beast step for step, measuring the wounded wolf for one final, killing strike. The monster was already close to death, and would likely collapse from blood loss even if the ranger did allow it to escape, but Crispin wanted to take no chances in giving such a lethal monster a chance to recover and possibly show up again in the future to launch another ambush. Slowly the ranger drew up for the last strike, ready to run the winter wolf through on his long sword.

Talia's scream of terror and pain stopped Crispin just before he drove forward. The ranger glanced quickly over his shoulder to see the mage go down beneath the second winter wolf, shaken like a rag doll as the monster fought its way through the heavy woolen garments to her flesh. With his own enemy nearly dead, Crispin turned and charged forward, hoping that the badly wounded wolf did not strike from behind.

He reached Talia and her attacker before the winter wolf could react, slamming into the creature from the side and jamming his sword between two of the monster's ribs. Crispin tore his blade free in a shower of blood as the wolf turned on him, but the monster only brought its huge muzzle in line with the ranger's descending axe. The creature's icy breath chilled him to the bone and numbed his arms, but the wave of frost died out as rapidly as it had come when Crispin's axe smashed through the wolf's nose and shattered its skull. The wolf dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, letting out one last, pathetic whimper through its destroyed mouth before it died. Crispin turned quickly as the monster fell, ready to ward off an attack from his original foe, but the badly injured wolf had already disappeared into the forest. The ranger took one step to follow the creature, knowing that the trail of blood that it left would be lost within an hour, but stopped as he remembered his unconscious companion.

Talia lay half buried in the bloodstained snow, one leg badly torn from the winter wolf's initial assault. She was barely breathing and her pulse was weak, but her frost covered wounds had at least kept her from losing too much blood. Still, Crispin would have to act quickly if he wanted to save the mage's legs; frostbite was already setting in, and unless the ranger thawed her frozen extremities, her left leg at the least would be lost. Crispin carried the unconscious girl just off the road, placing her gently beneath a thick tree where the snow had not yet penetrated, then turned back to the road to look for the horses and their packs.

The horses were still on the road near where the two travelers had dismounted, but Crispin let out a sharp curse as he stared at the two smoking corpses. Talia's lightning bolt may have wounded the winter wolf that had come after her, but it had also barreled through both of their horses and destroyed their packs.

"Oh, you really did it this time," Crispin spat, turning back to the unconscious mage. The ranger racked his brains quickly for some kind of plan, then unclasped his cloak and wrapped it around Talia's legs. Without wasting any further time to watch over his shivering companion, Crispin tore his way through the spruce around them, trying to gather up enough dry wood for a fire. The ranger had no idea if there were more winter wolves in the area, or if the two would survive the night, but he was certain that Talia's expedition was over.


	7. Allies of Inconvenience

****

VI

She could see it bounding through the trees, snarling menacingly as it closed in on her. Frantically she tried to turn and run, forgetting her spells, but before she could try to escape it was upon her, dragging her to the ground even as the muscles and bones of her legs tore and snapped beneath its horrible fangs. Desperately she turned back to the monster, flailing away with her arms as she tried to beat the huge wolf away from her, but it simply leapt forward and tore at her throat…

Talia leapt up in horror, screaming as she tried to scramble away from her nightmare. She was halfway through a spell before she realized that the forest around her was dark and silent, except for a the quietly crackling fire set only a few feet away from her. The wolves were long gone, she had been wrapped up in her cloak as well as Crispin's, and a badly singed blanket had been roughly thrown over her. On the other side of the small fire, Crispin watched her slowly regain her composure, his shadowed face looking almost sinister in the light of the fire.

"What… happened?" the mage asked timidly, still glancing around for any signs of the winter wolves that had attacked them earlier. "Where are we?"

"We're right off the road," Crispin answered, a sharp edge to his voice.

"What about the wolves?" Talia asked, trying to pull herself into a sitting position. As soon as she tried, though, waves of pain shot through her legs and chest. "I… I didn't think…"

"That much was obvious," Crispin interrupted, growing openly angry. "I hope you're well enough to walk soon, because we don't have horses any more."

"The… the wolves killed… the horses?" Talia concluded, growing more and more hesitant.

"You killed them!" Crispin suddenly shouted. "You fried our horses with a lightning bolt! What in the Nine Hells were you thinking?"

"I…" Talia faltered, dumbfounded.

"Yes, you!" the ranger exclaimed, glaring across the fire at her. "What the hell were you doing? Haven't you ever cast a bolt before? By Pelor's sun shiny ass, I know enough to make sure there's nothing behind the target!"

"I haven't," Talia said quietly, looking down at her still badly damaged leg. The wounds to her chest were not as severe, but they still pained her as she shifted slightly beneath Crispin's cloak.

"And not only don't we have horses, but we don't…" Crispin stopped as Talia's quiet answer registered. "You haven't? Haven't what?"

"I've never… cast a lightning bolt before," Talia said meekly, unable to meet the ranger's furious gaze. "I… a couple of times, I cast a lightning bolt, but it was in a large field, and I was only practicing it before I started on the road with you."

"You've never cast a lightning bolt," Crispin repeated, his anger slowly ebbing into stunned disbelief. For a moment the ranger stared at his companion, but Talia simply kept her eyes on the bandages covering her legs. "Is there… is there anything else you'd like to share with me before we continue this little trip?"

"I've… never seen… real combat," Talia said, almost too quietly to be heard. "That… I never… God, I'm so sorry, Crispin."

"Not once," Crispin said, too surprised to be furious. "You've never cast a spell in combat."

"I… I'm a scholar," Talia said, finally looking up with tear rimmed eyes. Her voice began to crack as she continued, as humiliation and fear fought for control of her emotions. "I… I didn't think you, or the marquis, would take me at all seriously if I told you that. I… God, I wanted to go so badly. I… I wanted to… I wanted to be the hero, instead of reading about the hero. And then, when these storms started, I… I'm sorry."

Talia looked away again, holding back her tears as she stared off into the darkness. For a long moment Crispin remained on his side of the fire, torn between wanting to comfort the young mage and wanting to gut her on the spot for leading him into the forest on some wild goose chase. Finally, the ranger stood up, and slowly walked around the fire to her. Carefully he knelt just behind her, but the mage would not turn to meet his gaze.

"Look," Crispin said quietly. "I'm not going to lie. Dragging me out here was wrong, and it almost got both of us killed. I hope you learn a valuable lesson from this, if we survive."

"I… yes," Talia said quietly. She started to draw her knees up to her chest, but stopped with a wince of pain as she aggravated her injuries.

"That being said," Crispin continued, putting a hand on the mage's shoulder, "it's not all bad to want to get out and be a part of the action."

"Thanks," Talia said, turning back to the ranger. Crispin patted her shoulder, then stood up and started back to his side of the fire.

"Come morning, I'll see if I can heal a little more of the damage to your legs," the ranger said. "My healing spells aren't exactly like going to the archbishop in Montcalm, but it'll at least get you around to walking in a day or two."

"Thanks," Talia said, looking across the fire. Crispin waved the gratitude off without another thought, and went back to tending the fire. "Crispin?"

"Yeah," the ranger said.

"You're… not a bad guy," Talia said. Crispin nearly broke out into laughter, but managed to keep most of his mirth under control.

"Don't go spreading vicious rumors like that," Crispin said with a chuckle. Talia smiled at the predictable answer, and dropped back into her cloaks and blanket to listen to the fire and faintly creaking trees around them.

___________________________________________________

"Think you can walk?"

"Yeah, I'll be all right," Talia said, standing stiffly on her largely healed legs. Her knees still ached when she moved, but Crispin had told her to expect as much from the lingering effects of frostbite. Gingerly the mage stooped and picked up what few belongings she had left, which fortunately included her spellbook. Crispin watched her as she slowly stood up again, noting the pain and stiffness that accompanied her actions.

"We can wait a little longer," the ranger offered. "Without any snowshoes, it's going to be a tough walk."

"No, I'm fine," Talia repeated, trying to convince herself as much as her guide. "Once we get moving it'll be fine. I just slept wrong, is all."

"Okay," Crispin said, conceding the argument for the moment. The ranger kicked some snow and frozen dirt onto the remnants of the fire, then led the way back out to the road. The last flurries had stopped sometime just before dawn, but the carcasses of the horses and the winter wolf that Crispin had slain were buried beneath a fresh mantle of snow. As he reached the road, the ranger turned west, judging the road ahead and the heavy banks of clouds that still obscured the sun. "We should make Falloux in about a day and a half, if we move quickly and the weather doesn't slow us down any more than it already has."

"Falloux?" Talia repeated, confused. "Then, you're not going to take me back to Montcalm right away?"

"Mattin is well over two days away, and I know for a fact that Prejet and his family don't have any horses for trade or sale," Crispin explained. "I'm not walking a week back to Montcalm. At least in Falloux we can get warm beds, and most likely some horses. If not, well, I'll do my drinking in a logging settlement, and you can see what it's like outside your ivory tower."

"Thanks," Talia said, picking out the subtle jab at her inexperience. If he noticed her unhappiness with him, Crispin seemed not to care as he started southwest along the road, holding his longbow loosely in his hand and keeping his quiver clear of his cloak. Talia hurried to fall into step next to him, pushing through snow that had grown over a foot deep from the previous day's weather. Crispin stopped after taking only a half dozen steps, and turned to the mage.

"If you want to break trail that badly, I'll let you," Crispin said, leaning on his long bow. "But I think you'll find the trip a lot easier if you walk behind me, where I've already broken the snow."

"Oh," Talia said. "Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah," Crispin replied. "You tell me when to stop. Your legs aren't fully healed yet. You try to push yourself too hard, and we'll only end up losing more time while you try to recover."

"I'm just a little stiff," Talia protested. "I'll be fine, Crispin. Though I appreciate your concern."

"Concern?" Crispin repeated, acting surprised that she would think he was worried about her. "Talia, I want to get to the inn at Falloux. It'll only take me longer if I have to wait half a day, or try to carry you."

"You're too kind," Talia grumbled. Crispin flashed an amused smirk at the young woman, then turned and continued to make his way down the Timber Road. Talia kept pace three steps behind the ranger, realizing as she walked that her guide had been right about how much easier the road became just by following Crispin's trail.

All too soon, it became apparent to Talia why the ranger had told her not to be too eager to keep up. Within the space of an hour, the dull ache in her legs had turned into constant, shooting pain that multiplied with each step. The flaring agony in her legs shifted suddenly and painfully to an icy numbness in her feet, as the snow on her boots melted and began to soak through the thick leather. Stubbornly the mage continued to keep pace behind Crispin, who still seemed unaffected by the harsh conditions around him. Whether the ranger's seemingly supernatural resistance to the cold came from some kind of ranger magic or simple acclimation to the elements, Talia could not tell, but Crispin continued to push his way through the snow with the determination of a golem.

It felt like another hour had passed when Talia finally stopped in the middle of the road, her legs in far too much pain to continue. Crispin seemed to instantly sense her pause, and turned back to her as she dropped to one knee in the snow.

"I told you, don't push yourself," the ranger reminded her. Talia glared up at her guide, but kept her comments to herself. "Come on. Let's get you off the road and in under the trees, where there's a little less snow."

"I just need a minute or two," Talia said, trying to massage a little bit of the pain from her shins. Crispin shouldered his bow and came back to her.

"Better that you're out of the heavy snow," the ranger said. Without another word he scooped her up out of the snow, easily cradling her in his arms as he carried her off of the road.

"Crispin, come on, put me down!" Talia protested. "I can walk on my own!"

"You weren't moving fast enough," the ranger said, ducking under the wide branches of the nearest trees and gently setting her back on her feet. Talia nearly collapsed under her own weight, but Crispin eased her to the ground against a huge pine tree that had kept most of the snow from reaching the ground. "Now just relax," Crispin said. "I can get a little fire going, and…"

The ranger stopped in mid sentence, halted by Talia's suddenly stunned and horrified expression. Crispin whirled even as he pulled his bow from his shoulder, but as he saw what had caught the mage's attention he slowly started to relax. Behind him, Talia gasped in fear and revulsion, already preparing a spell should an immediate threat arise. Cautiously Crispin edged his way closer to a large, wide spreading spruce tree, keeping an arrow nocked in case an enemy should arise from the dark woods.

The thing that had caught Talia's attention lay beneath the dead lower branches of the spruce. Two goblins and a huge, black wolf equipped with a riding saddle were frozen and half buried in the snow, their faces twisted into permanent masks of terror. One of the goblins still clutched its short bow, a broken arrow still set on its bowstring. As Crispin knelt next to the unfortunate goblins, he could easily see the huge bite marks that had slain them, ripping out internal organs and splattering them against the trunk of the tree. The ranger glanced around for tracks, but the only evidence he saw of a trail were traces of blood, partially erased by new snow.

"Who… were they?" Talia asked, sickened by the torn bodies.

"Raiders," Crispin answered, his attention still fixed on the grim scene. Carefully he made his way past the frozen bodies to the trail of blood, ducking under the heavy, dead branches of the spruce to what looked like it had been a campsite only hours before. Strewn across a tiny opening in the forest where a monstrous fir had splintered and fallen years before, four more goblins lay dead in the snow around a makeshift fire ring. The five worg mounts with them had been torn to shreds, their mangled corpses grotesquely frozen to the ground by their own blood. The blood trail led still further, another ten yards from the encampment to a final worg that had been literally ripped into quarters in a tangle of underbrush beneath the dense trees. For a long moment Crispin scanned the dim forest around him, looking for anyone or anything in the trees. There had been seven worgs, but only six goblins.

A faint bit of snow fell from one of the trees. Crispin turned, raising his long bow and taking aim almost twenty feet up an enormous pine. Above him, balancing on the branches as he drew an arrow to his own cheek, a fur clad goblin watched the ranger warily. For a long moment the two archers remained still, ready to let their shaft fly should the other try to fire.

"Got no quarrel with you," the goblin finally said, speaking in his own guttural language. For one of his kind, the goblin remained remarkably composed, unflinching in the face of the ranger below him. "Let me be."

"Who are you?" Crispin asked, remaining on guard.

"Who are you?" the goblin asked in reply, unwilling to divulge any information about himself. Again the two fell into silence, keeping aim on each other as Crispin tried to decide how to deal with the goblin above him. Many of his kind would have panicked and fired already, but this goblin's flat, almost simian face betrayed no sign of fear as his yellow eyes remained focused on the ranger. Only a faint twitch of his large, pointed ears through his long, coarse black hair gave any indication of the goblin's tense nerves.

"This is stupid," Crispin finally said, switching back to the language of Tourant. Slowly the ranger began to lower his bow, taking the chance that his opposite would do likewise. The goblin tensed visibly, then watched in confusion as Crispin removed the arrow and pushed it back into his quiver.

"You mean peace?" the goblin asked, his voice shaky and uncertain in Tourant.

"I mean peace," Crispin confirmed. "Come out of the tree. Today, we are not enemies."

The goblin hesitated a moment further, but finally lowered his short bow and tucked his arrow away. After another few seconds of consideration the raider finally shouldered the bow and worked his way down the tree, landing and turning on the ranger with his hand on the short sword belted to his waist. Again the two squared off, taking each other's measure in preparation for an attack. The rust hued goblin stood only four feet tall, fairly well built for one of his kind, but again, the thing that struck Crispin about the goblin was his apparent confidence and self discipline. Only the goblins of Trzebin or Przasnysz possessed the restraint and discipline that this raider displayed.

"What happened here?" Crispin asked, his own hands close enough to his weapons to draw them should it come to combat.

"What would human care?" the goblin replied curtly.

"Because whatever slaughtered your friends is probably still out here," Crispin replied. "And something that can kill six raiders and seven worgs worries me."

"Winter wolves," the goblin answered. "Come in night, kill guards, kill worgs. I escape."

"How many?" Crispin asked, growing faintly concerned. For the first time he began to give Talia's theory some thought; already he had seen evidence of at least two, and most likely three, winter wolves. Although a handful might follow storms, they were becoming far too common.

"Six," the goblin answered. "They ambush us."

"Six?" Crispin repeated. Eight or nine winter wolves in Tourant, especially so late in the season, was not normal…

"They come with snow," the goblin said. He glanced around the forest, then turned to walk to the road. "I go now."

Crispin watched for a moment as the goblin slowly pushed through the snow and the branches toward the road. Much as he hated goblins, Crispin realized that he was extremely short of allies in an increasingly hostile area.

"You'll never get back to Przasnysz on your own," the ranger said, switching back to the goblin tongue. The raider stopped in his tracks, turning slowly back to the human. "There is safety in numbers."

"You… mean to ally with me?" the goblin asked in his own language, thoroughly stunned by the offer. Crispin nodded once. "You will not trick me?"

"No tricks," the ranger confirmed. "I have but one… ally," Crispin started, trying to find the closest word to friend that the goblins had in their language, "and am in need of more. I am Crispin."

For a long moment the goblin stared at Crispin, trying to judge the human's motives. Crispin remained emotionless where he stood, wondering himself if he should trust a goblin as a traveling companion. For the ranger, however, there was no other option; Talia was too inexperienced in combat to provide him with any real help, while the goblin had at least seen battle on a handful of occasions. Finally, the goblin took a step back to the human.

"I am Rachwal, of the Cold Tooth," the raider finally said. Crispin knew the clan name well enough; the Cold Tooth clan of goblins held much of the power in Przasnysz, and were reviled by the traders that traveled the Timber Road for their bloody, successful raids on caravans all along the merchant routes to the heart of Tourant. "You camp here?"

"Only for the moment," Crispin replied. "My companion is wounded, and needs rest."

"Rest quickly," Rachwal said in halting Tourant. "Wolves come back, finish job."

"I don't doubt it," Crispin said, leading his new ally back to Talia.

___________________________________________________

"Two days now, and we ain't seen a trace of this thing. I say it ain't even around."

"If there was a winter wolf around here, it's probably still around," Emeri said, leaning forward in his saddle as he carefully scanned a large, snow covered field only three hours southwest of Mattin. Just behind him, sitting at the edge of a narrow trail that led out of the thick, rocky forest to this huge field, Gaston folded his arms across his barrel chest, far less interested in a hunt for a winter wolf than his squad leader. "A winter wolf isn't just going to sneak down here to kill a stray sheep or two."

"We should be down on the Timber Road," Gaston huffed, looking around at the frosted trees edging the meadow impatiently. "Trading season'll be here in no time. There's goblins to kill and protection money to collect."

"Not with all this snow, there isn't," Emeri corrected, finally convinced that there was nothing of interest in the field ahead. The Lancer turned back to his second in command, a scowl set on his face. "Maybe, if you'd put a little less effort into complaining and a little more into finding this damn dog, we'd be able to get this over with and get down to the Timber Road to pick out some good spots."

"I think Crispin was just trying to scare us," Bayard said, stretching slightly as he leaned back in his own saddle. "I think that was just a wolf, or maybe a worg."

"What have we told you about thinking, boy?" Fleury said from the rear of the group. "You're going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that."

"Well, there's nothing around here, anyway," Giraume said, shaking his head as he looked to Emeri. The squad leader glanced over to Giraume, opening his mouth to speak, but the young Lancer was suddenly torn out of his saddle in a cloud of frost and white fur.

"There it is!" Bayard exclaimed, fumbling to bring his lance in line with the huge, snow white wolf that had suddenly appeared in their midst. Giraume let out a final scream as the winter wolf ripped his throat open, spilling blood across the snow, but Bayard was already spurring his horse onward to kill the monstrous canine before it could turn on the rest of the Lancers.

The forest just north of the trail suddenly burst into action as three more winter wolves charged forward, taking Bayard and Gaston completely by surprise as they tried to react their first attacker. Both Bayard and his horse were frozen by two of the wolves' icy breath just as his lance hit Giraume's attacker, killing them instantly. Gaston whirled on the newcomers, slamming through one of the wolves with his lance, but by that time the first wolf had recovered and tore into his mount's throat. Fleury and Emeri both hit that wolf at the same moment, driving their lances into the monster's flank, but Gaston had already fallen from his slain horse into the waiting jaws of the other three.

"Emeri, get out of here!" Fleury shouted, yanking his lance free of the fallen wolf in time to ward off another of the attackers. 

"Not without you!" Emeri shouted back, fending off his own attackers. They had managed to kill one of the winter wolves, but the other three were rapidly closing in on the two survivors.

"We don't have a prayer!" Fleury shouted. "Get out of here and circle east! I'll meet you back in Mattin!"

Emeri opened his mouth to argue, but his attacker refused to give him any more time. The winter wolf charged headlong at his mount, avoiding the Lancer's weapon but only barely missing the horse's throat in its wild attack. Fleury was already backing out of the fight, holding off two of the winter wolves as he tried to turn around on the narrow path and head back to Mattin. Finally, without any other option and hard pressed by the winter wolf attacking him, Emeri turned his mount and spurred the horse to a gallop, taking off across the field with all the speed he could muster.


	8. Falloux

****

VII

"Are you sure it's a good idea to have him with us?"

"There may be nine winter wolves running around out here," Crispin said, trudging through the knee deep snow that had accumulated on the Timber Road. "We need anyone we can get right now."

"But… he's a goblin," Talia said, glancing furtively over her shoulder at the diminutive raider following a few yards behind the two humans. When they had found Rachwal the previous morning, the mage had been certain that Crispin at the least would not offer the goblin a chance to travel with them, and had almost expected the ranger to kill the little humanoid on the spot. "I thought you of all people would know better than to trust a goblin."

"And he thought I of all people should know better than to allow a woman an equal voice in things," Crispin added. Talia opened her mouth, ready to deliver an indignant retort, but the ranger continued before she could speak "Look, you don't like it, I'm not really happy with it, and I know he doesn't like it. But three of us stand a better chance than two of us, especially when one of us just got her first combat experience two days ago."

"You're not going to let me forget that, are you?" Talia asked, turning dismal at the recollection of her first battle.

"Not for a long time, at any rate," Crispin confirmed with a faint, almost condescending smile for his companion. Talia returned the gesture with a thoroughly false smile of her own, then looked back again to Rachwal. With shorter legs and more trouble handling the deep snow, the goblin had finally given Talia enough space to ask about his inclusion in the group, but for the entire previous day, Rachwal had remained oblivious to her desire for privacy of any sort to study her spellbook. Crispin had explained that goblins had almost no concept of privacy and that Rachwal was not being consciously intrusive, but the mage still nearly ended up shoving a magic missile down the nosy little raider's throat. "Relax," Crispin said, seeing Talia's constant glances to their newest ally. "Get back behind me, so you don't wear out so fast. I promise I'll let you break trail in an hour or so. In the meantime, Rachwal's not going to shoot you in the back."

"I can't believe we've sunk to trusting a goblin," Talia muttered, reluctantly falling into place behind the ranger and pulling her arms deeper within her heavy cloak. "When are we going to reach Falloux?"

"About three hours, hopefully," Crispin answered. "Why don't you talk to Rachwal a little? Maybe you can ask him if his people are bringing the snowstorms."

"That's very funny," Talia said sarcastically. The mage glanced over her shoulder again, taking stock of the goblin for the tenth time since she had met him. Talia had expected Rachwal to be rude, crass, inattentive, and cowardly, more likely to have his finger jammed up his broad, flat nose than his eyes on the forest around him, but the Cold Tooth raider was proving almost all of the stereotypes she had ever heard about goblins wrong. Rachwal kept his bow loosely in hand and his quiver in easy reach, and his yellow eyes scanned each tree carefully for some sign of an ambush. As the mage tried to puzzle out the goblin's actions, Rachwal looked up to her, nothing but cold indifference on his face as he met her dark eyes. Quickly Talia turned back to the road ahead of her, trying to avoid the goblin's almost unsettling gaze.

______________________________________________________

They were forcing him west. They had to be.

Emeri glanced back to the forest behind him, trying again to figure out a way past what seemed to be a picket line of winter wolves. For over a day the howls of his enemies had driven him steadily southwest, forcing him to sleep only a few minutes at any one time and to go without fire during the long, bone chilling night. Now, cold and exhausted, having already been in the saddle for almost a day and a half without rest, and still wounded by the loss of his entire squad, the Lancer tried to figure out a way back to Mattin or Montcalm. Unfortunately, and despite the fact that new snowfall during the night had helped to obscure his tracks, the winter wolves seemed to know his plans, and were ready to foil him at every turn.

Slowly Emeri reached into his saddlebag, and pulled out a well worn map of the southwest region of Tourant. The Lancer's original idea had been to head north, cut around behind the wolves, and then continue east to Mattin, but the wolves seemed to sense it every time he tried such a tactic. Three times he had moved north, but each time he had only gone less then a mile before the baying of the wolves forced him to turn southwest again. His next option had been to reach the town of Sauveterre, only a dozen or so miles to the northwest, but it soon became apparent that his canine pursuers were outflanking him to the north. At this point, the Lancer could not tell if the wolves' tactics were nothing more than a simple malicious game, or if they were forcing him into a trap of some sort. Winter wolves were known to have an almost human intelligence, as well as a notably sinister streak to their demeanors. During the early days of the kingdom, when the frontier was considered to be the town of Montcalm rather than Falloux and Sauveterre, woodsmen and rangers had told stories of winter wolves chasing lone travelers for days, or even weeks, simply to enjoy the victim's fright before closing in for the kill. If the stories were true, and if that was what these wolves planned to do, Emeri would be damned if he was going to give them the fear that they so desired.

The Lancer pored over the map for a moment longer, finally finding an apparent hole in the wolves' plan. To the southwest lay Falloux, a small logging community at the end of the Timber Road. While the village might only have a handful of actual militia, loggers in southwest Tourant were a hearty, durable sort, able to stand against harsh elements and spring goblin raids with stoic determination. Emeri judged the distance on the map, deciding that he could reach Falloux by nightfall if he pushed his mount. With the wolves coming at him from north and east, he would likely not meet up with anything in his way. If he was lucky, the wolves would not discover their mistake until they ran headlong into a score of angry, axe wielding woodsmen. With his course set and a new determination in his mind, Emeri turned his horse southwest and spurred it to a gallop, charging through the heavy snow in his race for Falloux.

______________________________________________________

"That's it. That's Falloux."

"Thank the gods," Talia said, breathing a sigh of relief as she finally caught sight of the town of Falloux. Although it was far smaller than Montcalm, all Talia cared about for the moment was the warm fire and hot tea that awaited her at the local inn. Without a second thought the mage hurried around Crispin and pushed her way through the snow, heading for the center of town in her rush to escape the numbing cold. Crispin started after the mage for only a few steps, his desire to get to the inn tempered by something that he could not quite place at first. Rachwal moved up next to him, his bow still in hand and an arrow ready to fly. For a long moment the ranger and the goblin stood in the knee deep snow, staring into the town as what little light remained in the leaden sky disappeared to the west.

"You see it too?" Crispin asked without looking to his far smaller companion.

"No smoke," the goblin said quietly. Crispin nodded.

"It's freezing out, there's almost two feet of snow on the ground, and not a single chimney is smoking," the ranger agreed. "I don't even smell any wood burning."

"Your people leave?" Rachwal asked. Crispin shook his head.

"Not very likely," the ranger answered, drawing an arrow of his own and starting cautiously into the settlement. Talia, halfway to the two story, wood and stone inn that sat in the center of the town, stopped in the middle of the empty, unmarked street as she noticed her companions' anxiety.

"What… what's wrong?" the mage asked, seeing the pair's ready stances and taut bowstrings. "Crispin? What's going on?"

"Stay close, Talia," Crispin said simply, taking a few cautious steps into the town. Slowly the ranger scanned the deep snow, but only Talia's tracks marred the white expanses between the buildings. Although heavy shutters covered the windows, not even a glimmer of light from a lantern or fire escaped around the edges of the wooden boards. Even though Falloux likely held over two hundred residents, not a single sound broke the eerie silence but for the crunch of snow beneath the travelers' feet. Slowly Crispin edged forward through the snow, expecting a winter wolf to leap from the rapidly darkening alleys between the sturdy cabins at any moment. Just a few paces behind him, Talia remained silent as she began to pick up on the lack of noise or light from any of the cabins or the inn, while Rachwal began to drift out to the ranger's left to examine a small, almost imperceptible rise in the snow near the front door of one home.

Crispin stopped as he drew even with the inn, staring curiously at a long rise along the side of the two story building. The snow in the alley alongside the inn seemed to be piled almost four feet higher than the snow in the street, reaching almost to the top of a door along the side of the tavern. With an arrow still drawn, Crispin cautiously started forward again, inching toward the inn's door. 

"Human," Rachwal called out suddenly. Crispin spun on the goblin, but Rachwal was staring down at a patch of cleared snow. Quickly the ranger made his way over to the raider, Talia keeping close on his heels. As the two reached their ally, Crispin stopped, shaking his head at the sight.

"My… what happened to…" Talia stammered, unprepared for the goblin's find. Half curled into a fetal position, frozen solid and buried under two feet of snow, Rachwal had uncovered the body of a young woman, still clutching her year old child in her arms.

"Talia, why don't you… go watch the road for… anything," Crispin said quietly, biting back his own revulsion at the sight. Talia remained rooted to the spot, her eyes locked in horror on the corpses until Crispin moved in front of her. "Talia."

"Win… winter wolves?" the mage asked, nauseous.

"Probably," Crispin answered, gently leading his companion away from the bodies. Rachwal began to follow the two, but Crispin shot the goblin a harsh warning glance to keep his distance. Talia took one step, then nearly fell to the ground as her knees buckled. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I… I'll be all right," Talia answered, closing her eyes and leaning against the ranger for a moment for support. "I… I just need a minute."

"Why don't you keep watch on the road," Crispin suggested a second time. "Me and Rachwal'll check the inn and the houses. If you see anyone on the road, let us know about it."

"I… I'll be okay," Talia said.

"I know," Crispin said, putting an arm around her shoulder and guiding her back toward the Timber Road. "But we need someone to make sure the winter wolves don't sneak up on us. Okay?"

"Crispin, I…" Talia started. She hesitated for a long moment, then continued. "I don't want to be alone."

"Okay," Crispin said, fully understanding the mage's fear. "All right. We'll go into the inn. You stay right at the door. Is that good enough?"

"Yeah," Talia answered, relieved. Crispin turned back to the settlement, allowing Talia to walk on her own again as he headed for Rachwal. The goblin had begun to follow the pair, but stopped and waited patiently for them to return to the center of the street.

"Is your woman ill?" Rachwal inquired, speaking in goblin.

"She's fine," Crispin answered, using Rachwal's language. "She does not find many bodies under snow."

"She is a woman," Rachwal said. "She should not be here. This is man's work."

"Let it go," Crispin said irritably, finally switching back to Tourant. Talia glanced from the ranger to Rachwal, but neither one seemed ready to explain their brief conversation to her. "Talia, wait at the door," Crispin directed. "Rachwal, let's check the inn."

The goblin nodded, and edged up to the door with his bow at the ready. Talia backed away a couple of steps as Crispin slowly placed his hand on the door, and pushed it open. The door only creaked forward a quarter of the way before it thumped into something lying on the floor. Inside, the common room remained dark and silent, but the ranger could make out two or three indistinct shapes in the murky darkness.

"Crispin, give me your dagger," Talia said, tapping the ranger's arm. "I can make a light for you."

Crispin nodded and pulled one of his knives from his belt, handing it over to Tali as she drew a pinch of faintly glowing moss from her belt pouch. With a single word and a touch to the blade, the dagger began to emit a bright light, shining like a torch in the gloom and illuminating the common room of the inn. Slowly Crispin and Rachwal inched into the building, leaving Talia waiting anxiously just outside the door.

The common room of the inn was strewn with splintered, rough hewn wooden furniture, evidence of a terrible fight. Blood had been splattered across one of the walls just above a pair of mangled loggers, their axes still clutched in their frozen hands. The innkeeper had been ripped open from his waist to his chin, and his blood had long since frozen on the narrow bar where he had slumped down against the counter. A final person, a barmaid that might have been sixteen, had tried to run for the side door into the alley, but she had ended up impaled on a wall of brambles and thorns. Nothing but cold ashes and a small piece of charred wood remained in the large hearth, but a neat stack of firewood had been left next to the stone fireplace.

"Winter wolves do not do this," Rachwal said quietly, still tense and ready for an ambush. Crispin nodded as he moved forward, making his way to the unfortunate innkeeper. The ranger appraised the dead man's wounds for a long moment, focusing on the single wound that had slain him. Finally, he turned back to the goblin as Rachwal pulled a pair of leather pouches from the necks of the slain loggers. The raider looked up to see Crispin's angry glare, but did not seem overly concerned.

"They will not need gold where they are going," Rachwal stated. Crispin thought of arguing the mere fact that he was looting the dead, but such a debate would achieve nothing useful. Satisfied that he had made his point, Rachwal continued his search of the unfortunate loggers for any valuables.

"Let's move these bodies," the ranger said, sticking his dagger into the wooden bar to illuminate the room. "We can put them in the kitchen."

"Why?" Rachwal asked, turning back from his examination of something on one of the loggers' hands.

"Because Talia does not like bodies," Crispin answered curtly. "Your looting can wait."

Rachwal shook his head in mild disgust, but threw his arms around one of the mauled loggers and fought to drag the heavy body across the floor. Crispin examined the clean, vertical slash that had slain the innkeeper for another second, then carefully lifted the body off of the floor and carried it into the kitchen and laid it gently in the corner. Panting and cursing in goblin, Rachwal heaved himself forward and dumped the logger in the center of the small room.

"Crispin!" Talia suddenly shouted. The ranger turned and shoved Rachwal out of the way as the goblin kicked the dead logger in the side, hurrying out into the common room. Talia stood just inside the door, trying to keep her eyes from the bloodstains or the two remaining corpses. The mage continued quietly, distracted by the badly mutilated corpses in the common room. "There's… there's a rider coming down the road."

"A rider?" Crispin repeated, pulling his bow off of his shoulder as he moved past the mage and into the snow. Standing in the middle of the road at the edge of town on his horse, a single man peered through the darkness, the tip of his lance pointing skyward. As Crispin appeared in front of the inn, the rider carefully started forward, dipping his lance slightly in readiness for combat.

"Who are you?" the rider called out, his voice all too familiar to the ranger.

"It's me, Emeri," Crispin replied, taking a few steps forward as he lowered his bow.

"Crispin?" Emeri repeated. The Lancer spurred his horse forward, quickly covering the distance to the ranger. "What happened here? Where is everyone?"

"I don't know for sure, but I think winter wolves killed everyone here," Crispin answered. "Either that, or everyone left in a hurry."

"How could winter wolves kill everyone in Falloux?" Emeri asked, looking around the deserted settlement. "There had to be over two hundred people here!"

Where's the rest of your patrol?" Crispin asked, glancing back up the road. Emeri hesitated for a moment, his eyes dropping to the snow covered ground.

"They're all dead," the Lancer finally answered. "Except maybe for Fleury."

"Winter wolves?" Crispin guessed.

"Winter wolves," Emeri confirmed. The two were silent for a moment, considering the information.

"Come on," Crispin finally said. "Let's get inside and get a fire going."


	9. A Long Night

****

VIII

"They just appeared out of nowhere. Got Giraume first, then Bayard and Gaston. They must have been waiting there to ambush us. Fleury took off east, while I went west and tried to circle around them."

"This is a big circle," Crispin said, turning back to Emeri once he was satisfied that the fire he had built would continue to burn. The ranger stuffed his flint back into a small pouch on his belt as he picked out a comfortable spot on the floor and sat down.

"I was originally going to circle north and go through Taureau again," Emeri explained, casting a last, curious glance at Rachwal. "The wolves kept turning me back, though. Like they were herding me out here. Now I know why."

"This isn't normal, is it?" Talia asked. "Even in winter, do we get this many winter wolves?"

"Not really," Emeri replied, dragging his pack to him across the floor. "We usually only see about a half dozen through the whole winter."

"Not to mention the fact that winter wolves wouldn't attack a town of this size on a whim," Crispin added. Emeri nodded in agreement as he fished through his pack, finally coming up with a small, plain wooden pipe and a little tin box. "They know better than to risk an attack like this if there's nothing to gain."

"Maybe they just got sick of humans," Emeri said, packing his pipe with tobacco. "They're mean bastards, winter wolves. Either that, or maybe prey went scarce in the mountains. Hunger'll drive wolves to attack anything."

"A lot of winter wolves, and unseasonable storms," Talia said, moving a little bit closer to the fire and away from Rachwal. "There has to be some relation. Right?"

"Yeah," Emeri said skeptically, taking a smoldering stick from the hearth to light his pipe. "Winter wolves follow storms."

"Never so many winter wolves," Rachwal said, speaking for the first time. Emeri turned a scowl on the goblin, obviously unhappy with the humanoid's presence. "This not natural."

"No one was talking to you, flat head," Emeri snarled. Rachwal growled back at the Lancer as his hand dropped to his short sword.

"We're on the same side," Crispin said, rising to one knee. Emeri patted the head of his mace as he glared at the goblin, daring Rachwal to make the first move. "So sit back and relax. We have enough problems without killing each other."

"When the storms clear out, so will the wolves," Emeri said with a final, withering glance at the goblin.

"But what if these storms aren't natural?" Talia asked, advancing her theory once more. "I mean, what if something else is bringing all this snow, and these winter wolves, into the area?"

"And who would do that?" Emeri asked, already disregarding the mage's idea. "That's ridiculous, lady."

"She may have a point," Crispin said, looking into the fire. Emeri and Talia both turned to the ranger, surprised by the simple statement.

"You're taking her seriously?" the Lancer said in astonishment, his pipe nearly falling from his mouth.

"You're taking me seriously?" Talia added, equally amazed.

"There's a wall of brambles along the side of this building," Crispin said, pointing back to the side door where the barmaid had died. "Last time I was here, that wasn't there."

"Maybe someone tried to keep the wolves from coming in that way," Emeri said.

"And the innkeeper was killed by a single slash, hip to chin," the ranger pointed out, drawing a line from his belt to his jaw with his finger. "Whatever killed him was no wolf."

"Maybe someone hit him on accident," Emeri concluded, although his tone had lost some of its certainty. "I mean, they probably panicked when the wolves got in the door."

"You and I both know that didn't happen," Crispin said, meeting the Lancer's gaze. "Someone is leading them. Whether that someone is responsible for the weather I can't say, but we both know enough about winter wolves to know that they don't attack towns unless they're directed to."

"This is crazy," Emeri said, standing up and taking a step back to the front of the common room. The Lancer peeked out through the shutter covering one of the inn's windows, then turned back to his three allies. "Who in the Nine Hells would want to freeze out southern Tourant? I mean, the flat head here told us that it wasn't them, and you found his raiding party slaughtered by wolves. Who else could it be?"

"Well, it would have to be someone that can cast a wall of thorns," Talia said, before Rachwal could take offense at the Lancer's insult.

"That narrows it down," Emeri grumbled.

"No, I think… what was it I read?" Talia said absently, lost in thought. "There was… no, that's not it…"

"Too bad she doesn't have her library," Emeri said, directing his comment at Crispin.

"Well, it's not arcane magic, I figure," the ranger said. "Otherwise, she'd know about it."

"A druid!" Talia suddenly exclaimed, nearly jumping up from her seat. "There was a story about the settlement of Sauveterre, built on a druid's grove, and the druid fought back! And when the settlers took the fight to him, he hid in a fortress of brambles! Every time the settlers burned a section of the wall away or managed to cut through it, the druid simply grew it back again before they could get through!"

"Is this druid still alive?" Crispin asked. Talia shook her head.

"By all accounts, he was captured and burned at the stake," the mage replied. "But as far as I know, only druids can cast spells that draw so directly on nature."

"Did this druid have any followers?" Crispin asked, pursuing their only lead. "Any apprentices or allies, anyone that would want to avenge him?"

"I don't know very much about druids, but I think they're pretty solitary," Talia said, trying to recall every detail of what she had read. "I don't think they have very many friends. I don't remember one from the accounts."

"Story, is what you mean," Emeri said. "There's a hundred wild tales like that, and hundreds more that say we stole land from centaurs, or giants, or about mad dryads looking for revenge, and all sorts of stuff. There's no way to tell if any of those stories are true."

"It's what we have to go on," Crispin said. "Looks like we're after a druid."

"Can you track a druid?" Emeri asked sarcastically, already knowing the answer. Crispin shook his head.

"No one can track a druid," the ranger answered.

______________________________________________________

"You cannot sleep?"

"No," Talia said, sitting up from her blankets next to the hearth. The fire had died down from a cheery blaze to glowing red embers, casting the devastated common room into darkness more than a few feet from the hearth. The mage looked around the room for a moment, but both Emeri and Crispin were sound asleep, apparently unconcerned with the possibility that the winter wolves that had slaughtered Falloux might return to make sure that the job had been finished. Rachwal perched on the remnants of a chair next to one of the windows, his breath steaming up faintly as he watched for signs of an enemy through a crack in the shutter. Slowly Talia pushed the last remnants of a nightmare with white fur and icy cold breath from her mind, and focused on her current surroundings. "Bad dreams."

Rachwal nodded, and turned back to his vigil. For a long moment Talia watched the goblin, expecting more from the raider, but Rachwal remained silent as time dragged on.

"I never met a goblin before," the mage finally said, growing uncomfortable in the silence. Rachwal simply nodded, barely turning his head from the window. "You're not really what I expected."

"What do you expect?" Rachwal asked, finally giving his full attention back to the mage. Talia shrugged, uncertain what to say next.

"Well, I… I don't know," the mage answered with an embarrassed smile. "I… well, not you, at any rate."

"You expect a fool," Rachwal concluded.

"No, no," Talia countered quickly. In truth, the goblin's statement was exactly correct, but the mage actually found herself concerned about offending her ally. Rachwal seemed to sense that sentiment, and snorted faintly at the transparent lie. "Are you from Pr… Prisyniz?"

"Przasnysz," Rachwal corrected. Talia smiled sheepishly.

"I never get that name right," the mage admitted. "So is that where you're from?"

"Yes," Rachwal answered, finally giving up on his watch. "I am a goblin of the Cold Tooth."

"That's your tribe?" Talia assumed. Rachwal nodded. "Do you miss your family?"

"We are warriors," Rachwal said, as if that answered the question. "We fight. We die."

"And that doesn't frighten you at all?" Talia asked. Rachwal looked at the ground for a moment, but then met Talia's curious gaze again.

"I not want to die," the goblin stated, looking back to the window. "But death come for all."

"That's a very fatalistic way of looking at things," Talia commented. 

"What is… fatalistic?" Rachwal asked.

"It basically means that you believe in fate," Talia explained, smiling a little as she moved a bit closer to the goblin. Rachwal turned a curious look to the mage, still not understanding her explanation. "You know, you just accept it, because you believe it's going to happen to you no matter what you do."

"That is the way," Rachwal said. "It will happen."

"I can't believe in that, myself," Talia said, growing more and more comfortable with the conversation. "I don't want to think my whole life has been predetermined. Me, I'd like to think that-"

"Quiet!" Rachwal suddenly hissed, raising a finger at the mage. Talia fell silent instantly, straining her ears to hear what the goblin might have heard. Rachwal picked up his bow and drew an arrow from his quiver, but remained silent and still on the chair as he continued to strain his ears for something in the darkness outside the building. For what felt like eternity the pair waited in the darkness, the only noise coming from the gentle, almost imperceptible crackling of the fire.

Nightmare images of a huge winter wolf bearing down on her began to invade her mind, but Talia fought to keep her fear in check as she continued to wait. Outside, a stiff breeze rattled something on another house. Swirling snow blew up against the west wall of the common room, pattering against the wood and stone building. In the forest, only a few yards beyond the inn, tree branches creaked beneath the weight of the snow and the increasingly persistent wind. Still Talia could hear nothing out of the ordinary, but she did not dare to break the silence as Rachwal leaned ever so slightly closer to the crack in the shutter.

"Wake them," Rachwal whispered, so quietly that Talia at first thought she was hearing things. The mage looked to the goblin for a moment, ready to question if he had actually spoken, when he impatiently pointed to the two sleeping men by the fire. Talia scrambled over to Crispin, keeping as quiet as she could, and gently shook his shoulder. Crispin's eyes popped open as soon as she touched him, and before she could even open her mouth he was sitting up ands reaching for his bow and quiver. The mage turned to Emeri next, reaching out to shake him awake as well, but she had no need to as a long, mournful howl cut through the silent night. The Lancer sat bolt upright, reaching for his mace, but did not make a sound as he looked to his companions. Rachwal turned back to the group as Crispin and Emeri quickly threw on their armor, and slowly held up three fingers.

"Talia, ready with a spell," Crispin said quietly, pulling her close enough to whisper into her ear. "Lightning bolt through the front door as soon as they come through."

"Okay," Talia said, steeling her resolve. Rachwal drifted down off of his table and crept back to the group, gesturing to the stairs with his bow. Crispin nodded, then pulled Talia back a step. Another howl carried across the town, driving another spike of fear into the mage.

"We make our first shots here, then head upstairs," Crispin instructed the mage. "Emeri will go first, then you, then me and Rachwal. Understand?"

"Yeah," Talia said. A third howl, this one almost directly outside the door, nearly made the mage jump. Quickly she pulled out the components for her lightning bolt, but Crispin grabbed her by the wrist. "Wait until you see them."

Again the wait began to drag on. The howls died away to nothing, and for what felt like hours the four companions waited in darkness for something to happen. Talia's taut muscles began to ache as the time crawled by, and her eyes, straining to see in the inky common room, began to make out imaginary shapes on the edges of her vision. Crispin's presence right in front of her, and Emeri standing at the foot of the steps behind her, was all that kept the mage from panicking and racing up to find a place to hide.

"What are they waiting for?" Talia asked, after more than an hour had passed.

"They're trying to panic us," Crispin explained in a barely audible voice. "Waiting for us to break and run. Just be quiet and don't move."

Finally, with the wind picking up and chilling the common room, the darkness began to give way to the first gray lights of dawn. A faint sliver of half light found its way through the shutter on the window next to the door, heralding a new morning. Ever so slowly Talia's muscles began to relax. They had made it through the night. The wolves had moved on. The mage leaned forward slightly, resting her forehead against Crispin's back.

The inn's door suddenly exploded inward, splintering under the weight of a simply gigantic winter wolf. Talia nearly leapt back into Emeri, but caught her balance before she could fall. Crispin and Rachwal both loosed their first arrows, and before his first shaft had hit its target the ranger was aiming a second arrow at the charging beast. Behind it, two more winter wolves rushed into the common room, their icy breath steaming out through their fangs.

"Talia! Lightning! Now!" Crispin shouted, backing up a step and nocking another arrow. Rachwal's second shot was dead on, hitting the lead wolf in its throat, but the monster simply snarled in rage and continued forward without breaking stride. Talia fought off the paralyzing fear of the wolf and flew through her spell, throwing her hands forward only a heartbeat after Crispin had ducked out of her way.

The lightning bolt thundered out just as the lead wolf reached her, throwing it back into the common room an instant before its jaws slammed shut on her hands. Directly behind it, one of the other wolves was thrown back to the door, taking the brunt of the blast, but the other had managed to move far enough toward the hearth to avoid the bolt completely. Rachwal and Crispin both turned to the last uninjured wolf with arrows drawn, firing just as the monster reached Rachwal.

The goblin's arrow drove into the winter wolf up to the fletchings, but the huge canine still slammed into its far smaller target at full force. A blast of frost and ice issued out of the wolf's mouth, but the huge jaws closed on Rachwal's bow instead of his arm, splintering the weapon with a sharp crack. Talia racked her brains, trying to come up with a spell to save the goblin, but Emeri suddenly raced by her, slamming his mace down on the wolf's head with a sickening crack. Rachwal's attacker staggered backward, stunned by the Lancer's brutal assault, but the first two wolves had already recovered from the lightning bolt and were charging back into the fray.

Crispin rushed forward to greet the two wounded attackers even as a trio of magic missiles streaked around him, riddling the lead wolf just before the ranger came within striking distance. Crispin's sword fell in a heavy chop, catching the staggered canine in the throat, even as the ranger drove his axe up into the monster's jaw, snapping the wolf's head up and spraying the ranger with its blood. As that one collapsed, the final wolf leapt over its fallen comrade, bowling Crispin over in a cloud of frost and ice. Ranger and wolf tumbled to the ground in a mass of flailing limbs and white fur, reaching Talia just as she finished her third spell. A thin sheet of fire leapt out from the mage's outstretched hands, burning off the hair on the wolf's flank and instantly catching its attention. Badly wounded and limping, the last winter wolf nonetheless sprang forward, ready to tear into Talia's throat before she could back away.

Rachwal and Emeri descended upon the wolf at the same time, cutting it off only a step from the mage. Talia hurried to come up with another spell to aid her two defenders, but before she could even consider which spells she had remaining the two warriors had stabbed and beaten the wolf to death. Talia glanced past the pair, to where the third wolf had pinned Rachwal, but that one had also been killed, its skull shattered and its flank pierced by almost a half dozen wounds.

"That wasn't too difficult," Emeri said, helping Crispin back to his feet. The ranger nodded as he brushed a faint covering of ice from his leather tunic. The ranger opened his mouth to speak, but another howl from outside the inn cut him off.

"There's more of them?" Talia said, astonished. As if to answer her question, a fourth wolf appeared at the shattered door, growling menacingly. Crispin, Emeri and Rachwal spread out quickly, ready to meet the monster's charge, but the winter wolf simply remained at the door

"What's he doing?" Emeri asked, glancing over to Crispin.

"He's waiting," the ranger answered simply, glancing quickly around the common room.

"Waiting for what?" Talia asked, almost afraid to know the answer. As if to answer her, a low, menacing growl rumbled into the common room from somewhere outside the building.

"He's getting a few more wolves together," Emeri said, backing up a step. "If we get upstairs, we can at least fight them one at a time in the stairwell. You go first, Crispin. Me and Rachwal'll hold the stairwell, and you can fire down on them."

"Talia, you got another lightning bolt?" Crispin asked, sliding his bow off of his shoulder again.

"No," Talia answered, sounding almost guilty. "Sorry."

"That's okay," Crispin said. "Up the stairs. Stay behind us."

Talia nodded and hurried halfway up the steps, then turned back to see two winter wolves charge into the common room. Crispin retreated up three steps, then stopped and loosed a pair of arrows on the larger wolf. Both shafts sank into the wolf's back, but the huge canine ignored the wounds as it charged in on Rachwal and Emeri at the bottom of the steps. Quickly the mage snatched a fine bit of spider web from her pouch, nearly tripping over the words to her next spell in her hurry to complete it.

The common room was suddenly engulfed in a tangle of heavy webs, stopping the winter wolves before they could reach the two defenders on the bottom step. The wolves snarled and howled in rage as they struggled to pull free of the webs, but at least for the moment, they were stuck fast in the mage's spell.

"Duck!" Crispin suddenly shouted, spinning to the top of the staircase. Talia dropped to the steps on reflex, diving out of the way a heartbeat before the ranger launched a pair of arrows over her head. At the top of the stairs, a third winter wolf howled in pain, but shook off the injuries and tensed to pounce on the small group in the stairwell.

"If you've got any more tricks, lady, now would be a good time to use them!" Emeri shouted from the bottom of the staircase. Talia vaguely heard the Lancer, but her focus was locked on the winter wolf above her, its icy eyes almost freezing the mage in place. "The wolves are pulling free and the web caught fire!"

"Drop back!" Crispin shouted, shouldering Talia aside just as the winter wolf leapt down the stairs. The ranger met the winter wolf only two steps above the mage, leading with his sword and scoring a vicious hit through the monster's shoulder. At the same instant the wolf unleashed its frost breath, but the ranger was ready for the attack and twisted away from the worst of the assault as the canine's jaws snapped closed on nothing but open air. Talia stumbled backward and dropped to the ground again, trying to get out of the way of the icy attack, but she still felt the numbing frost cut into her arms and back as she dove beneath the freezing cloud.

Pinned against the wall by his enemy's weight and his sword trapped beneath one of its paws, Crispin chopped away at the winter wolf's neck with his hand axe, tearing bloody gouges across the monster's back with each stroke. Despite the wounds it had already suffered, the wolf continued to shove itself forward, snapping at the ranger's face and free arm even as it crushed him against the sturdy stairwell. Talia started to climb back to her feet, turning on the ranger and his foe, but Rachwal suddenly shoved the woman back to the ground as he tore up the staircase. With the winter wolf unprepared for the attack, the goblin rammed into the monster just under its head, jamming his short sword up through the canine's mouth and into its brain. With a final whimper, the wolf slumped down on the steps, and Rachwal pulled himself free of the corpse.

"Thanks," Crispin said with a nod to the goblin, retrieving his long bow where it had fallen.

"We have more problems," Rachwal said, gesturing to the bottom of the steps. Just off of the common room's floor and becoming less and less visible through thickening smoke, Emeri was fighting to keep the winter wolves on the ground floor from breaking free of the web and charging up the steps. "With fire, we have no exit."

"I'm so sorry," Talia said, seeing the web burning rapidly across the room. At each point where it touched the wooden rafters and walls, the fire continued to spread, engulfing the entire first level in flames. "I… I forgot the webs would ignite from the hearth."

"Emeri! Up the steps!" Crispin shouted, ignoring the mage's apology for the moment. The Lancer wasted no time in retreating up the staircase, still beating at the one wolf that had cleared the webs and the flames. Somewhere in the common room, the other wolf howled in pain as the inferno burned it to death. Without another thought both Rachwal and Crispin dove down the steps, squeezing around Emeri and skewering the last winter wolf on their blades an instant before it could breathe its frost again. With a final heave, Crispin and Rachwal shoved the wolf back down into the conflagration below.

"Now what?" Emeri asked, the frost and ice covering his chain shirt melting rapidly with the increasing heat.

"We go upstairs and get out through a window," Crispin answered, pointing to the second floor with his bloodstained sword. Rachwal was already bounding up the stairs two at a time, and Talia wasted no time in following the raider. Emeri cast a last glance at Crispin, then they too rushed up to the second floor.

"Crispin!" Talia shouted suddenly, as the two men reached the hallway. The ranger turned quickly to the first room on his right, where Talia and Rachwal stood next to a small, open window.

"What now?" Crispin asked, squeezing between his two allies to look out the small window. The ranger simply stared down to the ground for a long moment, shaking his head in disbelief.

Standing beneath the window, what was by far the largest winter wolf the ranger had ever seen waited patiently in the snow, accompanied by five more packmates.

"This used to be such a nice territory," Emeri said, sounding almost nonchalant as he looked over Rachwal's shoulder to the huge wolves below them.

"What do we do?" Talia asked nervously, looking back to her companions.

"Try the other side of the building, and pray we don't get cooked on the way down," Emeri answered, already backing away from the window. "Let's just hope they don't circle around and get to us before we're ready for them."

"Hurry," Rachwal said, watching the smoke as it began to fill the hallway. "Fire is coming."

"As soon as they realize it, they'll be around to meet us," Crispin said. "Emeri, you're first. I'll try to keep them occupied long enough for you to get on the ground and find some cover."

"Crispin, let me give it a try," Talia said, looking down to the wolves. "I've still got one or two spells left."

"Then cast it so we can get out of here before the fire reaches us," Emeri prompted, already at the doorway. Behind him, more and more smoke filled the hallway, obscuring the Lancer as he kicked in the door of the opposite room. Talia edged her way past the ranger and pulled a pinch of sparkling dust from her belt pouch.

"Whatever you're going to do, do it now," Crispin urged, watching as the three of the wolves began to head for the front of the building. Talia rushed through her spell, and cast the glittering powder out of the window.

A cloud of sparkling golden dust drifted down around the wolves, clinging to their fur and getting into their eyes. The blinded monsters stopped and pawed at the faces or tried to rub the dust off in the snow, but to no avail.

"Cute trick," Crispin said, watching the wolves for a moment.

"Yeah, but it won't last long," Talia said. "Let's get out of here."

Crispin nodded and led the way through the smoke filled hall, pulling Talia by the hand into the opposite room to the window. Just below them Emeri and Rachwal waited in the street, backs to one another as they watched for more winter wolves. Fire and smoke billowed out of the windows directly below them as flames devoured the common room.

"Jump," Crispin said simply. Talia pulled herself halfway through the window, but stopped as she considered the jump and the roaring flames directly below her.

"Is there any other way out?" the mage asked over her shoulder, beginning to crawl back into the building.

"No!" Crispin shouted, shoving her through the window. Talia stumbled and fell forward awkwardly, but the heavy snow in the street cushioned enough of her fall to avoid any serious injuries. A second later Crispin thudded into the snow, rolling to his feet with his long bow in hand.

"They killed my horse," Emeri said, pointing with his mace to the slain mount just outside the inn. "Poor bastard must have never even seen them coming."

"We'll mourn him later," Crispin said, glancing up and down the street. "We need to get out of here quickly, before those wolves recover."

"Where do we go?" Talia asked, glancing around desperately. "We can't outrun them!"

"We get into another house and hope they go away," Emeri said, already pushing through the snow to the nearest cabin. Crispin had only taken one step after the Lancer when a golden blur and a roar of fury caught his attention.

Emeri wheeled back to the attack just as the huge winter wolf pounced, barely getting the haft of his mace in the way before the monstrous canine could snap its jaws shut around his throat. The Lancer disappeared into the snow as his attacker bowled him over, lost in a cloud of frost.

"Emeri!" Talia screamed, racing forward and trying to come up with a spell to help her companions. Rachwal and Crispin were already descending on the wolf, but it paid them no heed as it continued to gore the fallen Lancer. Fumbling with her belt pouch, the mage pulled a licorice root shaving free and flew through a short chant. An instant later Crispin was moving with superhuman speed, slamming into the wolf's flank with his axe and long sword and drawing bright lines of crimson through the glitterdust. Rachwal hit the wolf just as it tried to turn, crashing down on the monster's muzzle with his short sword before it could try to repel its first attacker. The winter wolf released Emeri as it turned back to defend itself from Crispin and Rachwal, but the badly wounded Lancer was barely able to stand after the beating he had taken.

The winter wolf snapped at Crispin just as the glitterdust covering its body wore off. With the speed that Talia's haste spell had given him, the ranger skipped just out of reach of the monster's teeth, then drove forward again to score another hit with both his sword and axe. Rachwal also pressed the attack, stabbing at the monster's flank with his short sword while the huge wolf was distracted. Talia rushed to Emeri's side as the Lancer tried to recover from his wounds, steadying the soldier before he could collapse back into the snow.

"That didn't go quite like I planned it," Emeri said, only half conscious as he leaned in against the mage. Talia glanced desperately around her for some kind of safe haven, quickly deciding on a small, sturdy cabin set across from the burning inn. Half dragging the Lancer with her, Talia charged up to the door and threw her weight against it, forcing her way into the cabin and dumping Emeri unceremoniously to the ground. With the Lancer taken care of for the moment, Talia turned back to the fight outside in time to see the huge winter wolf nearly bite Rachwal in two. The mage raced two steps out into the snow, but a pair of howls from behind the inn froze her in her tracks.

"Get in there and bar the door!" Crispin ordered, sliding sideways as the wolf turned from Rachwal and lunged again at the speedy ranger. Crispin spun neatly aside and thumped his axe into the wolf's shoulder as it passed, scoring another deep wound to the monster's already blood soaked flanks. Rachwal stumbled back to his feet, holding his short sword shakily in front of him as he prepared to face the wolf again. "The others are coming! Get in there and shut the door!"

"But what about you two?" Talia asked. "I'm not going to leave you out here to die!"

Crispin started to answer the mage, but was cut off as the winter wolf renewed its attacks against him, finally scoring a hit as its jaws snapped shut on his thigh. The ranger let out a cry of pain as he was dragged off of his feet and dropped into the snow, but Rachwal leapt onto the monster's back and slammed his short sword down with both hands, driving the tip of the blade through the wolf's head. With a final, gurgling whimper, the wolf dropped dead into the snow, but the goblin was already turning his attention to its five packmates as they stormed forward through the street.

"Hurry up and get in here!" Talia ordered, waving frantically to the two injured warriors. Crispin jumped back to his feet and raced towards the building, scooping up the slower Rachwal in his mad dash for cover. Even with the effects of the haste spell quickening his pace, the ranger beat the wolves to the cabin by only a few steps, diving through the open doorway just as Emeri and Talia slammed the door shut. The Lancer was barely able to bar the door as two of the monstrous canines tried to barrel through the obstacle, but finally slid the oaken plank into place as their pursuers howled in frustration. Crispin and Rachwal jumped back to their feet and shoved the table forward, bracing the door further, only seconds before a powerful impact shook the door and threatened to shatter the oaken brace. With the wolves held at bay for the moment, Emeri collapsed against the table, his wounds finally overtaking him. Crispin and Rachwal still held the far end of the table, looking around the dark interior as Talia slumped down against one of the side walls. Finally, as she listened to the wolves searching the boundaries of the cabin for a way inside, the mage turned to Crispin, terror etched upon her features.

"Now what?" she asked quietly, expecting the wolves to punch through the walls at any moment. Crispin hesitated for a long moment, then finally shook his head.

"I don't know."


	10. A Tough Decision

****

IX

He had not heard the wolves for hours, but he was still unwilling to risk so much as peeking through the shutters.

The sun, weak as it had been during the day, was once again giving way to darkness. Inside the tiny cabin, only a few faint slivers of half light gave any illumination to the dark, spartan home. The table that they had used to bar the door was a sturdy, rough hewn object, flanked on either side by a tough log bench. Set on right side of the room were two large beds, one for a logger and his wife and the other for their children. On the wall opposite the large door was a stone hearth, cold and silent with half a pot of frozen stew hanging above long dead coals.

Crispin had searched the place thoroughly hours ago for anything worth salvaging, but the cabin had offered very little. He had found some warm clothing to replace Emeri's shredded cloak and tunic, and a fair number of heavy woolen blankets to take the place of the ones they had lost in the fire. There was still a small amount of dried beef and unspoiled bread in the pantry, but barely enough to survive more than a few days. Beyond that, however, the cabin held nothing of value. Now, sitting at the table with his weapons in easy reach, the ranger tried to figure a way past the remaining winter wolves with two badly wounded allies.

Emeri was easily the worse off of the two, but what little healing magic Crispin was able to muster had at least brought the Lancer back from the brink of death. Now Emeri was sound asleep beneath the covers of the former owner's bed, recovering from his injuries. Rachwal occupied the other bed, wrapped in bandages that Crispin had torn from a long dress that he had found and buried beneath the blankets. Finally, sitting across from him, Talia had wrapped herself in a blanket as she tried to keep the cold at bay.

"You should get some sleep," Crispin said, speaking for the first time since the group had settled into the cabin. "You need rest to cast spells, don't you?"

"Can't sleep," Talia said quietly, looking up from the table. "How's your leg?"

"It'll be fine," Crispin answered, looking down at the red tinged bandages wrapped around his thigh. "I've been through worse."

"I can tell," Talia said with a little bit of a smile, tracing a line down the side of her face where the scars would be on Crispin. The ranger ran a thumb over one of the lines, a bit of a smile coming to his own face. "That wasn't from a winter wolf, was it?"

"A worg," Crispin replied. "That was a long time ago."

"Oh," Talia said, expecting a little bit of elaboration. When Crispin said nothing after a moment, the mage continued. "I guess it was a… not something you like to talk about?"

"Didn't Thierry tell you how it happened?" Crispin inquired, a bit surprised.

"Should he have?" Talia asked in reply.

"He's got a big enough mouth," the ranger explained. "The boy can talk for hours. At any rate, if you must know, these scars are a reminder not to be too overzealous."

"Overzealous?" Talia repeated. Crispin nodded, a faint chuckle escaping his lips.

"Back when I was younger than you, just starting out as a scout down here, my mentor had me track a small goblin raiding party," Crispin explained. "The trail actually led through this area, and into the foothills of the Khairathi Mountains. When we reached them, there were five goblins, all worg riders like Rachwal, and four of us. And I went charging into them, thinking that goblins were no danger whatsoever. I got the goblin rider, but the worg latched onto my arm, dragged me down, and managed a nasty swipe across my face with his claws while he tried to bite through my arm."

"Ouch," Talia said, wincing at the image of a young Crispin being mauled by a worg.

"Yeah, that's what I said," the ranger agreed with a bit of a grin. "Anyway, Renaux finally managed to kill that worg before he could finish me off. We didn't have very much in the way of healing magic, especially back then, and I doubt Renaux would have done anything more for my face as it was. He was more than a little bit upset with me charging out of cover like that. Told me that now, every time I saw my reflection, I would remember not to be such an idiot."

"That's a bit extreme," Talia decided.

"Maybe in Stith it would be," Crispin said. "But out here, you don't get many opportunities to make the same mistake twice."

"A hard life," Talia said quietly. "If I had burned myself in the lab, Telford would have had me right over to the local healers."

"Telford?" Crispin repeated. Talia nodded.

"When I was sixteen I was apprenticed to him," the mage explained, a wistful smile coming to her face. "He's a wonderful man, more of a father to me than my real father, who was too busy counting the money he made running the shipyards at Stith. He was always helping me, always making sure I was well looked after, and always there when I needed him."

"Well, why aren't you still in Stith with this Telford?" Crispin inquired. The mage looked down at the table, her mood darkening as rapidly as it had brightened.

"Well, about four years ago, the Arcanists' Guild wanted to expand their influence south and west," Talia answered. "Montcalm had a guild house, but it wasn't very big at the time. Telford suggested that I take the opportunities afforded down here, since the Guild was… well, let's just say that, down here, at least some day I won't just be 'Telford's little apprentice' any more."

"You were in love with him?" Crispin concluded. Talia started to nod, but then went rigid as the question registered in her mind.

"No, he was my teacher," the mage said, trying to sound nonchalant. "What would make you think something like that?"

"That dreamy look in your eyes and the way you talk about him," Crispin said. "You can relax. I'm not going to run back to your Guild and tell everyone. Or at least anyone that doesn't already know."

"That was a long time ago," Talia said quietly, reluctantly conceding the point.

"And he sent you down here to break off the affair," Crispin deduced.

"He sent me down here because it was good for my career!" Talia shot back, her voice rising in anger. Crispin held a finger to his lips for her to lower her voice. 

"Maybe we'll leave this conversation alone for a little while," Crispin decided. Talia nodded her agreement. "Get some rest. You're probably going to need all of your spells tomorrow."

"Still no fire?" Talia asked, pulling the blanket closer around her shoulders.

"They smell smoke, they'll sit outside the door and wait for us," Crispin answered. "This way, we give them as little incentive as possible to stick around. If you share the bed with Emeri, you'll stay a bit warmer. And he's still hurt too much to try anything."

"What about you?" Talia asked as she stood.

"I'll take first watch, then get Rachwal up for the next one," the ranger answered. "You get some sleep, so that you can memorize another lightning bolt. We'll probably need it."

Talia nodded reluctantly, then turned and carefully edged her way under the blankets next to Emeri. Despite her fear of the wolves outside and her anxiety at being in the same bed as the highwayman, she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

______________________________________________________

"I don't know. I just get the feeling they'll hit us as soon as we open the door."

"It's a definite possibility," Talia heard Crispin say to Emeri. The mage slowly opened her eyes, and turned to see Crispin and Emeri peering through a partially open window. With the shutter opened a good four inches, a blinding ray of sun shone across the room, the first true light that Talia had seen in two days. Sitting on the far side of the room, Rachwal was doing his best to stay out of the light, picking at his fingernails with a small dagger. "Look, we can't stay in here forever," Crispin continued, rubbing at the thick beard on his chin for a moment. "Sooner or later, we're going to have to try leaving this place."

"I just don't like it," Emeri said. "I'd give it another day. At least give me and the flat head a little more time to heal. He can't take the bright light too well, anyway."

"Are the wolves gone?" Talia asked, sitting up in bed. Crispin turned to her with a shrug.

"They could be waiting only a few yards away, buried under the snow," the ranger answered. "Or they might be halfway across the Khairathi Mountains by now. We're not going to know until someone takes a step outside. Take care of business and get to studying. Bedpan's under the bed."

"Okay," Talia said quietly, feeling under the bed for the pan. "Um, can I have a little privacy?"

"Where would you like us to go?" Emeri asked derisively.

"Just turn around, Emeri," Crispin said. "Besides, we have more important things to worry about. Rachwal, close your eyes."

"Why?" Rachwal asked, genuinely perplexed.

"She wants privacy, flat head," Emeri replied.

"What is… privacy?" Rachwal asked, forgetting the slur in light of the odd request.

"Just don't look at her," Crispin said. "Turn around or close your eyes or something."

Rachwal still seemed confused, but finally turned away from the mage to face the opposite wall. Crispin returned his attention to the window in front of him, considering the bright, almost blinding light reflecting off of the snow in the empty streets of the village.

"Twelve winter wolves," Emeri said, watching his breath cloud up in front of him. "At least we got seven of them already."

"Yeah, but we don't know how many more might be wandering the forest," Crispin added, shaking his head. "Something is very wrong with this situation. We don't even see twelve winter wolves all year any more."

"So we hit our limit," Emeri said. "Shouldn't be any more out there."

"I don't know," Crispin said. "Me and Talia were attacked by a pair of winter wolves. On the same day, your patrol got ambushed by four more. And Rachwal's raiders got hit by another six. That's twelve, at the very least. I'm starting to think that Talia's theory about unnatural storms might not be wrong."

"You think there really is a druid out there?" Emeri asked quietly, trying to display some skepticism through his tone.

"Yes, I do," the ranger confirmed. "That innkeeper wasn't killed by a wolf, and there's a wall of thorns that wasn't there the last time I was here right outside the door of an inn. There's something weird going on here."

"But why would a druid want to prolong winter like this?" Emeri asked. "Druids are all about life and rebirth and the cycle of nature and all that garbage. Why would one of them want to disrupt the whole cycle and keep winter?"

"To drive the loggers out," Crispin replied. "Like the elves on the Argent border. They'll do anything to keep us from cutting down trees even close to their border. Maybe that tale about the druid grove at Sauveterre had some truth to it."

"Okay," Emeri said. "Even if she is right, what do you want to do about it? We can't go wandering all over the place looking for a druid. We'll never find him!"

"Let's worry about getting out of this house before we worry about finding any druids that might be in the area," Crispin said, picking up his long bow and drawing an arrow.

"What are you doing?" Emeri demanded as the ranger began to remove the bar from the door.

"I'm going to step outside," Crispin replied.

"Even though you're the one with the bow," Emeri pointed out. "Don't you know basic tactics? The one with the bow backs up the one with the hand weapon. So you stay here. I'll go outside."

"It's not like you to be the hero, Emeri," Crispin said, still not moving from in front of the door. "And you're still not fully healed."

"Don't be a bastard, Crispin," Emeri said, pulling his mace from his belt and pushing the ranger to the side. Crispin reluctantly allowed the Lancer past, nocking an arrow as Emeri walked out into the bright street. As the door creaked open, Talia jumped up from her seat to join the ranger at the open doorway.

"What is he doing?" the mage asked, watching the Lancer walk out into the middle of the street.

"He's taking his morning walk," Crispin answered simply, not taking his eyes from the Lancer. "How's your studying coming?"

"But… we don't know if the wolves are still here!" Talia blurted out, not even bothering to answer the ranger's question. Emeri stopped in the middle of the road, and turned to look up and down the thoroughfare. For a tense minute the Lancer held his mace defensively, waiting for an attack from any direction. Finally, he turned back to Crispin with a shrug.

"I guess they left," the ranger said, lowering his bow and taking a few steps out into the morning sun. After only a moment's hesitation, the mage hurried out after her companion. Emeri walked halfway back to the cabin, meeting Crispin along the side of the road.

"So we can leave now," the Lancer said. "We'll have to hike it all the way back to Mattin at the very least, and see if we can get a few more Lancers out here. And probably those knuckleheads you trained, too."

"We can't go back," Crispin said, looking around at the snow covered forest. "Planting is already over two weeks late. We've got to deal with this ourselves, before the whole south freezes out."

"Ourselves?" Emeri repeated. "What do you expect to do with a bookworm and a flat head? And how are four people going to cover enough forest to find whatever's causing this?"

"I'll think of something," Crispin answered, shrugging. "I may not be able to track a druid, but a large pack of winter wolves won't be able to effectively cover their tracks. In the meantime, Talia can go over her spells, and we can see what's left in this town in the way of supplies."

______________________________________________________

"At least we know what happened to the town now."

Crispin only nodded faintly in agreement, focused on the carnage before him. The temple to Pelor was easily the most distinguishable building in Falloux; a low stone wall surrounded snow covered flower beds and a domed temple of stone, worked brass, and glass ringed with pillars of white marble. Just inside the heavy cedar double doors, Emeri and Crispin hesitated in the tiny foyer as they surveyed the seventy-odd frozen corpses strewn among the ring of mahogany pews and the ivory and gold altar set in the center of the temple. Men, women and children, almost half the population of the town, had been killed in the middle of prayer. Despite the heavy snows, the glass panes in the roof were clear enough to allow the sun to shine brightly down on the macabre scene.

"They probably never knew what hit them," Crispin finally said, taking a step forward. "They never had a chance."

"Let's see if there's anything we can use and get out of here," Emeri said. Even the hardened Lancer was unsettled by the massacre, taking a careful step forward and trying not to disturb the corpses.

"This doesn't feel right at all," Crispin said, making his own way across the temple. "Looting a church like this."

"I'm sure they'd want to help us find these winter wolves and put them down," Emeri reasoned, glancing back to the ranger. "Do you know where they'd keep any of their… well, their healing potions or things like that?"

"There are alcoves on the other side of the temple," Crispin answered, "leading back into a small hospital. Their healing supplies would be in there."

Crispin and Emeri edged their way through the sun drenched hall, stopping as they reached the center of the temple. Lying on the other side of the altar, an older man with salt and pepper hair and dressed in the silver and gold robes of a priest of Pelor, had been half frozen and half torn apart by the winter wolves. Crispin knelt next to the man for a moment, looking into his sightless blue eyes.

"Poor bastard," Emeri said quietly, looking over the ranger's shoulder. Crispin nodded in agreement.

"Well, I guess you're with Pelor now, Fabian," Crispin said quietly. The ranger pulled a discarded altar cloth over the priest's face, then stood up and continued to the alcoves.

"Fabian wasn't exactly a pushover," Emeri said as the two men pushed aside a golden curtain and entered the small antechamber beyond. "You sure we won't need any more help on this?"

"We don't have time to get the help," Crispin answered, pushing aside the golden chalices and sun symbols as he searched for anything of use in the alcove. "By the time we get back, report to the marquis, gather a force, and come back here, those winter wolves could be at the gates of Montcalm. I can send a messenger back, if I can find a bird that didn't actually fly north for the winter, but unless you want to have snow at midsummer we have to find the source of the problem."

"It's not like you to be the hero, either," Emeri stated, turning to the ranger.

"I'm not thrilled about this, trust me," Crispin said. "But I don't think those wolves are going to let us just walk back to Montcalm without a fight."

"Hey Crispin, do you even know what we're looking for?" Emeri asked, stopping as he moved a pile of parchments and books. He held up a furled scroll as he turned to the ranger. "Any one of these things could be magic, but I can't tell a magic scroll from a normal one. Maybe we should have brought Talia."

"I'm not looking for scrolls," Crispin said. "Fabian kept some kind of healing ointment. It was in ivory jars, not very big. Had a gold pattern on the lid, some kind of phoenix and sun design."

"I think I got something," Emeri said, turning to the ranger and holding out a small flask of translucent blue liquid. "Sacramental wines?"

"Fabian, I could kiss you," Crispin said, taking the bottle from Emeri. "There any more of these?"

"Yeah, five in all," Emeri answered. "Are they healing potions?"

"No, they're potions of cold resistance," Crispin replied. "Really good for warding off a winter wolf's frost breath. I managed to get Fabian to part with one for me last year. Potion kept me warm for a whole day."

"Then maybe Talia'll stop shivering," Emeri said. "I still don't see those jars anywhere, though."

"I got them," Crispin said, reaching up to a top shelf and pulling down two tiny white jars. "We can't exactly stop and smear this on in the middle of a fight, but it works wonders on an open wound."

"We need anything else from here?" Emeri asked, looking up and down the shelves quickly.

"No," Crispin answered.

"What about the gold?" Emeri inquired, gesturing to the holy symbols and chalices.

"We are not looting a temple to Pelor," Crispin replied sternly.

"I wouldn't loot a temple," Emeri said. "I just thought I'd hold onto it until they got a new priest."

"Get out," Crispin directed, pointing to the doors on the opposite side of the temple. Emeri shrugged in resignation, then started back to the exit.

______________________________________________________

"Did you get everything we need?"

"More or less," Crispin replied, meeting Talia on the front porch of the cabin. "Found some healing salve and potions that'll come in handy, some food, some blankets, a shield for Emeri, and a short bow for Rachwal. I think that should be about all we need. You get your spells ready?"

"Yeah," Talia answered with a nod. "Um, I'm sorry about not having a fireball, but, well, I was a little nervous about throwing one around. I mean, it's got a huge blast radius, and I just had this nightmare about blowing myself up along with whatever I was throwing it at. The lightning bolt just seemed a little more… precise, I guess."

"Truth be told, I'm glad you haven't blown us up yet," Crispin said with a bit of a smile as he glanced past Talia to his other two allies. Inside the cabin, Rachwal and Emeri were both preoccupied with their packing jobs, ignoring the pair standing in front of the home. "Look," Crispin said, sounding a bit awkward. "I thought about it a little, and I, well, I apologize for what I said last night. About Telford."

"That's okay," Talia said with a smile, a bit of color coming to her cheeks. "You… well, you were pretty much right. I was in love with him. And as for his sending me down here… you're not the first person to say that. Anyway, it's probably just as well. We had a good year together, but it never would have worked out. I mean, he was twenty years older than me."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, it's nice to have you down here," Crispin said, starting to head into the cabin. Talia put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Crispin, was that a compliment?" the mage teased. Crispin smiled slightly as he shook his head.

"I've met some of the other members of your little guild," the ranger pointed out simply.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that you were actually nice to me," Talia said, lowering her voice to a more conspiratorial tone. Crispin laughed as he continued into the cabin.

"They wouldn't believe you, anyway," the ranger said.

"Believe what?" Emeri inquired, looking up from his pack.

"That Crispin was nice to me," Talia answered.

"You're right," Emeri said flatly, packing a pipe with tobacco. "I wouldn't."

"Where'd you get that pipe?" Crispin asked, seeing the ornate design on the wooden object.

"Gaetan," Emeri replied. "Remember that old logger?"

"Yeah," Crispin answered, nodding slowly. "I guess he didn't get out either, then."

"Found his body in the middle of the street," Emeri said. "I figured he wouldn't mind, since my pipe burned up in the inn, and he probably won't be doing very much smoking any more. So now that we have our supplies, what's our next move?"

"I already scouted the western edge of the town," Crispin said, leaning on his long bow. "The most recent tracks go off to the west, but angle slightly north. There's one other path, one that I stumbled on by luck, that runs off to the southwest." The ranger glanced back to Rachwal as the goblin finished his own packing, his wounds healed by the ointment recovered from the temple. "You going to come with us, Rachwal?"

"Cannot raid with snow," the goblin answered, throwing his pack over his shoulder. "I come with you. Kill this druid."

"The Goblin Stones are just about west of here, right?" Emeri asked, considering the wolves' path. Crispin nodded.

"What are the Goblin Stones?" Talia asked, curious.

"One of those natural defensive positions that I told you about," Crispin replied. "A small goblin tribe used to live there, until an orcish war band slaughtered them to the last. According to local lore, the goblin bodies were strung up on the rocks as a warning to stay out of the orcs' territory. You can still find goblin bones there, at any rate."

"Well then let's go," Talia said, eager to continue the journey. Emeri shook his head at Crispin, still doubtful about the chances of such a small group's success.

"What about getting word back to Montcalm?" the Lancer asked. "If we don't get the job done, someone else has to."

"I already sent a hawk back to Mattin with a message," Crispin answered. "Hopefully, Prejet will get the message and send it the rest of the way to the marquis."

"And if he doesn't get the message through?" Emeri asked. Crispin shrugged.

"Then we'd better get this right the first time," the ranger answered simply.


	11. Ambush

****

X

"Weather's getting bad again."

"I know," Crispin said, looking up from the faint tracks in the snow. While the sky had remained clear during the day, a new storm was beginning to move down from the west, obscuring the sun setting behind the Khairathi Mountains. With the light rapidly fading, the trail would be nearly impossible to follow. Only a step behind him, Emeri leaned against a huge, lightning struck spruce as he watched the clouds moving in from the west. "We'll have to make camp soon and put together some kind of shelter to ride out the storm."

"Wasn't there a river around here somewhere?" Emeri inquired, gazing westward as Crispin tried to discern the wolves' trail in the gathering gloom.

"It's more of a creek," the ranger answered absently. Talia and Rachwal joined the pair as they studied the tracks. "Fast, but not very deep."

"Are we stopping here?" the mage inquired, looking past the two men.

"Maybe," Crispin replied. "The storm moving in looks like it might be a good one. We'll need some kind of shelter."

"Will we lose the trail if it snows?" Talia asked, watching the clouds herself.

"Yeah," Crispin answered. "Then we're back to guesswork."

"We use caves ahead," Rachwal suggested, leaning on his short bow. Talia started off slowly along the faint tracks, trying to follow them through the snow. "Cold Tooth use caves west of river."

"Yeah, but we still have to find the river," Crispin said, looking up to the sky. "I thought we would have reached it by now."

"Hey, these tracks are getting clearer," Talia informed the group, almost a dozen yards ahead of the group. "And I think I hear water!"

"Uh, Crispin, does that river ever freeze over?" Emeri asked, pointing to the tree line. Crispin looked up as well, and suddenly noticed a linear break in the forest canopy.

"Talia! Stop!" the ranger shouted, jumping to his feet. The mage turned around, a look of confusion on her face, but she had no time to question her companion as a loud crack echoed through the trees.

Crispin was moving instantly, racing for the mage as Talia plunged through a thin layer of ice and into the river hidden below it. The ranger slid forward, feeling ice give way beneath his chest as he lunged for Talia's cloak, snagging her only a fraction of a second before she could slip beneath the icy water. Emeri raced forward, diving to catch the sliding ranger's legs before Crispin could also be pulled into the frigid current. Rachwal took a step forward as well, but stopped as he heard a pair of low growls behind him.

"Humans! Hurry!" the goblin shouted, spinning back on the rumbling growls and swiftly drawing an arrow. Two winter wolves were already charging through the snow, baring their fangs and breathing thick clouds of frost as they closed in on the goblin. Rachwal fired quickly, nearly knocking the smaller of the two wolves back with his first shot, but the other covered the distance to the goblin before Rachwal could draw and fire a second arrow. The two combatants tumbled backwards in a cloud of snow and frost as Rachwal struggled to draw his short sword and push his far larger combatant away. The winter wolf snapped down on the goblin's arm even as he pulled his blade free, trying to tear Rachwal's limb off at the elbow.

Emeri suddenly slammed into the wolf from the side, his mace crashing down on the canine's skull and forcing it to let go of Rachwal. The Lancer pressed the attack as Rachwal stumbled back to his feet, blocking a brutal counter from the monster with his shield and following through with another thunderous blow as he rolled with the impact. The wolf turned back on him, blood pouring from its head, in time to receive a third strike from the Lancer's mace, this one snapping the monster's head back from the force of the underhanded attack. Emeri pushed forward, trying to finish the dazed wolf before it could regain its senses, ignoring his armor's suddenly freezing temperature in his hurry to finish his opponent. The wolf stumbled backwards, trying to escape the fighter, but Emeri managed to land the killing blow as he fell forward, screaming in pain as his skin froze to his chain mail and ripped apart with his movements. The Lancer dropped his mace and shield, frantically trying to tear his armor free before he froze to death inside his chain mail.

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The shock of falling through the ice and sinking into the frigid water had stolen her breath and numbed her for a moment, but after only a heartbeat Talia had recovered enough to frantically claw her way back above the water. Her head thumped into solid ice for a moment, but the mage kicked off of the rocky bottom enough to break the surface and gasp in a mouthful of air before her feet slipped across the riverbed and the current dragged her back down. Talia began to scream for help, but her mouth filled with water as she submerged once more. Again the mage tried to kick off of the bottom, but the stones beneath her offered no purchase, instead ripping through her heavy boots and slicing into the soles of her feet.

A terrible pain shot through her scalp as someone grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her back. Talia threw her arms out, desperately reaching for her rescuer, and within moments a powerful hand closed around her wrist and hauled her onto the bank. With the last of her strength the mage dug her fingers into the muddy bank and dragged herself forward, choking for breath as she finally pulled herself out of the powerful current.

With Talia out of the water, Crispin rolled back to his feet to meet the winter wolves that he had heard behind him. The ranger froze, his long bow halfway off of his shoulder, as he suddenly caught sight of a shape against the dark trees on the opposite side of the river. The slight form was standing more than two dozen yards away, dressed in the white furs of a winter wolf, but it was definitely not another one of the monstrous canines. As Crispin watched, the diminutive man pushed the wolf's head helm he wore back slightly, revealing sharply pointed ears and flowing, platinum blond hair, almost seeming to smile at the ranger as Crispin saw him. Then the man simply disappeared as he took a single step backwards, vanishing into the trees.

Rachwal's shout for help and Emeri's screams of pain snapped the ranger back into action. The ranger spun and loosed his first shaft, driving an arrow through the neck of Rachwal's foe. The first arrow had barely struck home when the ranger fired a second time, striking a winter wolf charging in on the melee from along the riverbank. Crispin dropped back a step, drawing another arrow and preparing to fire, when a loud bellow from the other side of the river caught his attention. The ranger turned and fired again before he had truly sighted in on his target, but his new enemy was difficult to miss at best.

"Talia, get up!" Crispin shouted, swiftly drawing another arrow. The ranger let his second shaft fly as Talia spun to the newest threat, but she froze in horror as she finally saw the monstrous, brown furred bear charging to the river in its hurry to reach the four travelers. Both of Crispin's arrows had struck their target, but the gigantic bear seemed not to even notice the shafts as it roared again in anticipation of tearing its foes apart. "Talia, come on!"

Crispin's voice brought Talia back to her senses. The mage quickly pulled her spell components free of her belt pouch, and loosed a bolt of lightning on the bear just before it reached the water. The lightning barreled into the monster head on, but the bear hardly slowed as it crashed through the ice covering the river and splashed through the water towards them. 

"We're not even slowing it!" Talia exclaimed, trying to think of some way to destroy the oncoming monster.

"Talia, come on!" Crispin ordered, pulling the mage off of the ground by her arm. Talia fell back into the snow only an instant after she had risen, barely able to stand on her torn feet. Crispin turned back to her, ready to pull her up once more, but stopped as he saw the blood staining the snow around her shredded boots.

"Get going!" Talia demanded, seeing the ranger's hesitation. "I'll hold that thing off!"

"Stupid heroics," Crispin grumbled, drawing his sword and axe. The ranger met the bear head on as the monster lumbered onto the river bank, slashing through its thick brown fur and chest as it stood on its two hind legs. Crispin spun quickly, barely avoiding one ponderous strike from the bear's huge claws, and buried his hatchet in the creature's chest just as it crashed home with its left paw. Crispin tore free of the monster as he flew backwards, crashing through the ice almost ten feet away and falling into the river, but Talia had somehow managed to find her footing and threw off a trio of magic missiles into the monster's gut before it could charge her. Despite four arrows sticking out of its shoulders, Crispin's sword and axe wounds, and the mage's spells, the enormous bear seemed to be nothing more than angered by the assaults. Talia stumbled backward one step, but the mage had nowhere to run as the bear swatted her to the side. Stunned by the brutal assault and left gasping for air, the mage had no time to react as the huge bear stormed forward to finish the job.

______________________________________________________

Four winter wolves were charging in off of his left and two more to the right, but at least he had found the potion of cold resistance in his pack in time to keep his armor from freezing him to death. Emeri hefted his mace and turned back to the river, hoping that there would be some kind of safety in that direction, but the Lancer was just in time to see a titanic bear hurl Crispin back into the water with an almost casual swipe of its paw. Rachwal was barely recovering from the initial beating that he had taken, but the goblin had somehow managed to gain the upper hand against the winter wolf that had originally attacked him. Still, the Lancer was beginning to doubt that the small group would live through the fight; it might have been possible to defeat eight winter wolves, but the dire bear that had simply appeared out of nowhere had certainly tipped the scales in the canines' favor. The odds worsened even more as the dire bear hurled Talia back into the snow, tearing huge gashes across her chest with its monstrous claws. With the bear's attention fixed on the helpless mage, Emeri found himself looking at what might be his only chance to ford the river and make a dash for safety in the forest on the other bank.

Emeri charged forward with a roar of his own, crashing into the dire bear only a second before it could reach Talia. The Lancer's mace thumped down on the monster's flank, but the bear was only angered by the new attack. Emeri dropped back one step and threw his shield up in time to parry the bear's devastating assault, but his arm was nearly torn off at the shoulder by the force of the blow. Stubbornly the Lancer launched a second attack, this time having marginally more success with a strike aimed at the bear's head. Roaring in pain and fury, the dire bear turned back on Emeri and slammed both claws into him, nearly tearing his stomach apart as it lifted him off of the ground in a deadly embrace.

Crispin rejoined the fray then, leaping onto the monster's back and driving his sword into the bear's hide up to the hilt. The huge creature threw Emeri aside and swatted at the ranger clinging to his back, but Crispin refused to be dislodged as he hacked away at the back of his foe's neck with his axe. Emeri rolled back to one knee as the dire bear bucked fiercely, but Crispin's sword remained firmly anchored in the monster's back, allowing the ranger to keep hold on the huge ursine for a moment longer. Next to him, Talia wheezed for breath as she tried to recover from her injuries, but the Lancer could barely worry about her as he turned on the rapidly closing winter wolves. Rachwal's original opponent had finally been killed, but the goblin himself was nowhere to be found.

Straining to concentrate through the pain, Talia fought her way through another spell, and a cloud of golden dust settled on the four winter wolves charging from the left. Behind them, the dire bear flopped backwards, nearly crushing Crispin in its desperate attempts to dislodge the ranger, but the Lancer had no time to worry about his companions as he rushed forward to intercept the final two wolves. Both of the monstrous canines turned their icy breath on him at the same time, trying to freeze the Lancer in his tracks, but the potion's protection allowed him to barrel through the worst of the frost and slam his mace down on the shoulder of the lead wolf. The wounded wolf turned, missing the Lancer by scant inches, but its companion ripped through Emeri's shield and clamped down on his elbow with a vicious snap of its jaws. Emeri dropped back with a gasp of pain, knocking the wolf free with a powerful backhand stroke of his mace, and nearly fell into Crispin as the blood soaked ranger yanked his sword free of the slain dire bear.

"How are you holding up?" Crispin asked, dropping into a defensive stance as the two wolves slowly closed on their targets.

"I can't keep this up much longer," the mauled Lancer replied, his shield arm hanging useless by his side. "What about you?"

"I'm taking a beating here," Crispin answered. "And Talia's been crippled. The druid set a trap under the ice."

"He's here?" Emeri asked, glancing back to the ranger.

"Somewhere," Crispin affirmed.

"Then I hope she has some kind of teleport spell," Emeri said, backing up another step. Behind the two warriors, the four blinded winter wolves were caught in another of Talia's webs, but the powerful canines were already recovering from the glitterdust spell and pushing their way through the webbing with furious strength. "Because we are not going to win this fight."

"The river," Crispin said, glancing over his shoulder. "We make a swim for it, beneath the ice. If we're lucky, they won't follow us."

"And if we're not lucky?" Emeri inquired. Crispin turned a grim expression on his partner.

"Then we die anyway," he answered, backing away from the wolves. The two canines continued to match their opponents step for step, but refused to attack as they waited for their entangled allies to break free of the web. With one more step the two men had reached Talia, and Crispin helped the mage to her feet.

"What do we do?" the mage asked, clinging to Crispin's sleeve to keep her balance. "The glitterdust will wear off any second, and they're already halfway through the web!"

"Get ready to hold your breath," Crispin answered, sheathing his weapons. The ranger hoisted Talia onto his shoulder, and turned to the icy water behind them. "We're going for a swim."

"You can't be serious!" Talia protested. Crispin simply charged for the river in reply, sprinting for all he was worth as the winter wolves pulled free of the web and barreled through the snow after their victims. Only a step behind, Emeri pushed forward for all he was worth, but the two winter wolves that had not been caught in the web were too close. The Lancer spun at the last moment, trying to throw up his shield in time to deflect one wolf's attack even as he crunched his mace down on the other's head, but his wounded arm moved too slowly to block the leaping monster. Before Talia could try to think of a spell to save him, Emeri had been thrown to the ground by his monstrous attacker. The mage could only spare the briefest instant to mourn Emeri, however, as the other four wolves rapidly closed the distance to the fleeing ranger.

Crispin dove forward at the last second, crashing through the icy crust on the river just as the wolves reached the bank. Talia rolled free of the ranger's grasp and began to swim forward with the frigid current, barely able to open her eyes through the stinging cold. Behind her, Talia thought she could hear something else splash into the water, but would not even hazard a look back as she tried to keep up with Crispin's furious pace.

Chunks of ice suddenly lanced down through the water behind her, gaining in intensity until a full fledged ice storm was tearing through the thin ice above her. The already cold waters dropped still more in temperature, until new ice was forming in the current. With her lungs burning for lack of air and her arms and legs going numb with frostbite, the mage bumped up against the sheet of ice and snow above her, trying desperately to find her way back to the surface. The mage was ready to punch her way through the translucent barrier when Crispin grabbed her by the arm, dragging her along the rocky river bottom and away from the winter wolves.

______________________________________________________

The icy water had sapped his strength quickly, stealing the heat from his body within seconds and threatening to overwhelm him before he could even come up to surface for his first gasping breath. But as bad as the water had been, the night air was even worse.

Crispin clawed his way onto the riverbank with the last reserves of his strength, racked by shivering as the harsh southwestern winds brought the threatening storm upon the forest. Snow was already falling, rapidly gaining in intensity as the ranger stumbled up onto the rocky shore, trying to force circulation back into his numb fingers and toes. With the last bit of his coherence, Crispin called upon the wood magic he had mastered, banishing the chill from his body with a simple spell.

With the cold at bay for only a moment, Crispin quickly took stock of his surroundings. He had timed his exit from the river as well as he could have hoped, and found himself in one of the thickest, wildest patches of the forest. Almost a dozen years earlier, he and Renaux had spent three nights riding out a storm in the worst part of winter in the tiny caves and overhangs that honeycombed the rocky outcroppings just to his west. Now, with very little time to organize a shelter, the ranger had to pray that he could find a deep enough cave to hide in, and he needed to find dry firewood in an escalating blizzard after nightfall.

"C-C-Crispin?" Talia stuttered, already delirious with cold. Crispin rushed back to the water, nearly slipping on the icy stones, and took the mage in his arms.

"Come on, Talia," the ranger said, carefully carrying her away from the water. With the last reserves of his mystical energy, the ranger was able to protect Talia from the cold, but it was a temporary respite at best. Even now he could feel the limits of his own spell being tested as the bitter wind began to freeze his clothing to his skin. "We'll get you to shelter, and I'll see about a fire."

"I d-don't feel so cold any more," Talia said, putting her arms around Crispin's neck and leaning into his drenched tunic. "Is it magic?"

"Wood magic," Crispin explained simply. "I have a little more time, but the spell I used on you won't last very long. Now Talia, this is very important. Are you listening?"

"Yes, I'm listening," the mage said, although she still sounded distracted and not quite coherent. "I really like you, Crispin."

"Talia, come on," Crispin ordered, trying to force coherence back on the mage. "There are some small caves just ahead. I'm going to bring you there, and heal the damage to your feet. Then I'm going to get some wood and start a fire. But you have to keep moving around, Talia. Do you hear me?"

"Keep moving," Talia repeated in a drowsy tone. "I'm tired, Crispin."

"I know, but if you fall asleep, you won't wake up," Crispin said, pushing through the snow with all the speed his numb legs could muster. "You need to keep moving, and keep as warm as you can until I can get a fire going. Do you understand?"

"So tired," Talia said quietly, snuggling up against the ranger's chest.

"Talia, come on!" Crispin shouted, almost directly into her ear. Talia jumped, shocked by the sudden outburst. "You have to keep with me! Keep awake!"

"Right, awake," Talia repeated, growing slightly more lucid. With her renewed coherence, the mage was suddenly more aware of her surroundings, and of the biting cold fighting to overwhelm Crispin's magic. "Crispin?" the mage asked, her voice a timid whisper.

"What is it?" the ranger asked, still plowing through the snow.

"Are… will we make it through the night?" Talia asked, her dark eyes locking onto Crispin's gaze.

"We're damn sure going to give it a shot," the ranger answered sternly.

"I'm glad you're here," Talia said, drawing herself as far into Crispin's arms as she could.

"You're going delirious again," Crispin said, although he could not force all of the awkward tone out of his voice. The ranger finally reached his destination, and picked his way up through the rocks in a desperate search for shelter. Finally, after several agonizing minutes, Crispin pushed his way into a cave that was almost eight feet deep, fairly well hidden within the rocks, with a thin layer of dirt and conifer needles to insulate the pair from the cold stone. While the ceiling was too low for the ranger to stand, Talia might be able to fit inside with only a little bit of a crouch. Quickly the ranger ducked into the cave, and lowered Talia to the ground against the far wall.

"What about those potions?" Talia asked, gingerly helping Crispin to remove her boots.

"Emeri had them," Crispin answered simply. Talia looked down to the ground.

"He…" the mage started, her voice trembling. Crispin nodded. "Did you see what happened to Rachwal?"

"No," the ranger answered, taking his waterlogged pack from his shoulders and quickly coming up with the jars of healing salve. Crispin continued to speak as he applied to salve to the deep lacerations in her feet, seeing them begin to close as soon as the ointment touched the injuries. "I can only guess that he was killed, too. This should heal enough for you to be able to walk. Once you're able, stand up and walk around. Jump up and down, if you can. Wave your arms about. But whatever you do, don't stop moving. That spell I cast on you is just about over. After that, the cold is going to hit you full force again."

"Then hurry back," Talia said, doing an admirable job of keeping the fear out of her words. She carefully planted her feet on the ground, and pushed herself up against the wall as Crispin emptied his meager supplies from his backpack. For a moment the ranger hesitated, taking stock of the mage, but Talia forced out a smile. "I'll be okay," she said, fighting off a renewed chill in her body as the spell wore off. Crispin nodded and turned to leave, but Talia caught his arm and pulled him back to a quick kiss. "For luck," the mage said, seeing the ranger's stunned expression. Crispin nodded.

"Keep moving," he said, unable to think of anything more to add. Talia merely smiled in reply, but her teeth were already beginning to chatter again. Crispin ducked out of the cave and half slid down the rock face, hurrying to the nearest trees in an effort to find wood.

Crispin bolted from tree to tree, hacking dead limbs off of the lowest whorls of spruce and pine at a frantic pace. His own spell, more potent than the one he had cast on Talia, was already beginning to fade out. His drenched garments were quickly freezing, and with every step he could feel icy water sloshing around his feet. Under normal circumstances his elemental protection spell would have lasted well over an hour, but in under half that time the ward was beginning to give way to the first stinging sensations of frostbite. Slowly his body began to shiver again, until he was shaking so badly that he could barely aim his axe. Still the ranger forced himself to keep moving, barging through the knee deep snow with two armfuls and a backpack full of wood.

Talia had slumped against the far wall, shivering uncontrollably and fighting against the urge to simply fall asleep. Crispin barely noticed her as he dumped the wood in the center of the tiny cave and set to work, trying to control the shaking in his hands as he tried to arrange the tinder and kindling so that it would catch. Next the ranger fished out his flint and steel, but his shaking hands could barely strike the two together with enough force to draw a spark.

"I'll t-t-try," Talia stammered, moving next to the ranger. Crispin dropped back, ready to give anything a chance, and the mage managed to spit out a quick chant. A sheet of fire spread out from her outstretched hands, barely igniting the gathered wood.

"G-g-good," Crispin said, pulling off his frozen gloves and trying to keep the fire going. "T-t-take off your c-clothes."

"What?" Talia asked, looking to the ranger.

"They're t-too wet to be of any help," Crispin said, quickly building the fire up. "You'll b-be able to absorb more heat w-without them."

Talia hesitated for a moment, but finally began to remove her heavy outer garments. With the fire beginning to blaze up, Crispin took his blanket and a pair of daggers, and fought to drive the small blades into cracks in the rock around the cave opening to hold the blanket over the entrance. Though it was far from weatherproof, the ice covered blanket did manage to keep most of the wind and snow out of the cave. With the entrance sealed, Crispin dropped to the ground and pulled off his boots, cloak, studded leather tunic, and shirt, and quickly moved as close to the fire as he could get. He had barely sat down, practically hunched over the flames, when Talia moved to his side, forcing herself under his arm to share body heat.

"Crispin?" Talia asked, looking up. Although she was still violently shaking, the ranger could not feel it over his own shivers.

"Yeah," Crispin answered quietly, moving the two of them even closer to the meager heat source.

"Are we going to live through this?" Talia asked. Crispin looked down at her, and ran the back of his hand gently along her cheek.

"We'll make it through," the ranger answered quietly. Talia smiled up at the ranger, and slowly rose to press a kiss to his lips.

"Keep me warm, Crispin," the mage said quietly, drawing him down to her.


	12. The Mournbringer

****

XI

Heavy snow had fallen throughout the night, but by morning the latest blizzard had moved on to the east. The first gray lights of dawn fell on a fresh, unbroken blanket of snow, obliterating almost every trace of the vicious battle that had been fought by the river the previous day. The only evidence of the bodies that had fallen on the river bank was a series of slight rises on the otherwise smooth, white surface. Even the river had disappeared, covered once more by ice and a thin layer of snow.

It was here that Rachwal had ridden out the storm, concealed beneath the body of one of the winter wolves that had attacked him. The wolf's carcass had given him some measure of protection from the elements, but more importantly had masked the raider's scent from the winter wolves that had ambushed them and had hidden him from the keen, icy eyes of the elf that dressed in wolf furs and apparently led the winter wolves. Only once had Rachwal left his hiding place, to retrieve Emeri's backpack and the potions that the Lancer had been carrying with him. Without the potions, Rachwal never would have survived the night underneath the winter wolf.

Now, with the sun beginning to creep into a crystal clear sky, Rachwal finally came out of hiding. The winter wolves had long since moved on, following their master on Crispin and Talia's trail. The two humans had escaped down the river, braving the frigid water rather than face another six winter wolves and the druid that led them. Absently rubbing at the frozen blood on his short sword, Rachwal considered his options as he started toward the nearly invisible river.

The goblin's first idea was to simply head south, all the way back to Pryzasnysz, but two problems confronted the raider with this. For one thing, Rachwal would have to try to sneak past the elven druid's forces, and one goblin stood very little chance against a horde of winter wolves and a powerful spellcaster. If this were not problem enough, Rachwal was almost certain that the goblins of Przasnysz were suffering at least as much as the humans of Tourant's frontier. In the weeks that it would take for the raider to return to his clan and warn them of the danger to the north would take far too heavy a toll on the goblins of the Cold Tooth. Much as he hated to think it true, Rachwal needed the human ranger and his mage companion. Together, the three of them might be able to kill the elf that threatened his people before he could do any more damage.

With renewed purpose, Rachwal set out along the river bank, keeping as close to the water as he could without leaving the cover of the heavy spruce and pine in his search for his two human allies.

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****

Their passion had come about as much from the simple need for warmth as it had from love. When he had fallen asleep, he had been certain that he would never wake up again.

The heavy storms must have receded in the night, for two brilliant shafts of sunlight shone into the cave around the edges of the frozen blanket. Talia was still sound asleep in his arms, and as Crispin shifted slightly the mage forced herself even closer to him beneath the damp blanket that they had shared during the night. Although he had managed to gather only a meager supply of fuel, the fire that he had built still smoldered in the center of the cave, but it gave off too little heat to be of use. With the few hours of rest that he had claimed, Crispin would have a new set of spells, but most of the pair's clothing was still too wet to be of much use outside the cave. While he was not keen on the idea of remaining in the cave for another day, Crispin was reasonably certain that he and Talia would freeze to death if they did not give their clothing and supplies one more day to dry.

"I thought you would never wake."

The unexpected and completely unfamiliar voice startled the ranger into action. Crispin practically fell over Talia as he fumbled for his weapons, coming up with his hand axe and long sword and stumbling into a defensive crouch. Standing against the wall next to the cave's entrance, a diminutive man wearing a helm made of a winter wolf's skull and white furs simply smiled back at the naked ranger. Quickly Crispin tried to shake Talia awake, but the mage simply batted his hand away with an incomprehensible mumble and fell back to sleep.

"She will not wake for some time," the newcomer said. "But she is otherwise unharmed."

"Who are you?" Crispin demanded. Recognition hit home as the ranger noticed his guest's pointed ears.

"I am Elec, the Mournbringer," the elf stated simply. "I am steward of these forests, the caretaker of all you see."

"You're a druid," Crispin concluded. Elec nodded, a faint smile on his face.

"I am," the elf affirmed. "And you, ranger, respect the old ways. Otherwise, the Mother would not have deemed fit to see you live through the night. In these times, your fellow humans seem to think a ranger is anyone that can shoot a bow and track a goblin army across a muddy field. Tell me, were you trained by an elf?"

"No, I wasn't," Crispin answered. Elec arched a skeptical eyebrow.

"Your mentor must have been, then," the druid concluded. "But despite your talents, I must question your judgment. You take a goblin for an ally?"

"The winter wolves were a more dangerous foe," Crispin pointed out. Elec smiled once more, and casually pushed the blanket aside. Outside, a huge winter wolf stood among the rocks, only a few paces from the cave entrance. Crispin backed up a step, ready for an attack, but the wolf simply growled slightly before turning away.

"They are the Hounds of Winter," Elec said, regaining the ranger's attention as he dropped the blanket. "The largest pack of winter wolves ever assembled, almost a hundred in number. They are my allies."

"Allies?" Crispin repeated. "They've killed over two hundred innocents!"

"Innocents?" Elec echoed. The elf's cold blue eyes darkened with anger as he moved forward slightly, practically spitting out his words in anger and disgust. "Innocents. You of all your kind should know better. They have defiled the Mother. They destroy hundreds of trees every day for their precious wood. They hunt for sport as much as for necessity. They dig in the mountains for their precious steel. They are no innocents. For two hundred years I have watched the humans of the so called 'Kingdom of Tourant' push their way westward, destroying everything they come across. You should be able to see that."

"And you think what you're doing is any better?" Crispin asked.

"I am defending my home!" Elec shouted, his face twisting into a mask of rage. "I have every right to kill them, before they kill me!"

"What you're doing will only bring the army to your forests," Crispin said, trying to sidestep the elf's skewed morals. "And they will not be as kind to your land as the loggers have been."

"No army can move through winter storms," Elec countered, his anger still simmering just below the surface. "The Hounds of Winter will drive the humans back to the sea. I will let them take their precious boats, so that they may leave and never return! Because I can bring winter down upon them whenever I choose!"

"You'll need more than winter wolves to stop the entire Army of Tourant," Crispin pointed out stubbornly. Elec turned back to him, the mask of maniacal rage beginning to fade away.

"I know," the elf said, calming once more. "And that is why you must help me."

"Me?" Crispin said, astonished. Elec nodded.

"The Mother has favored you with Her gifts," the elf said. "In return, you must lead the Hounds of Winter. As spring advances, more and more of my power must be directed to holding winter over this land. If we are to succeed, I will need a general. Answer my call, Crispin. Be my general. If you do this, you may keep the girl, as long as she will respect the Mother as you and I do."

"And if I refuse?" Crispin inquired.

"Then we remain enemies," Elec answered. "Do not make me regret my choice to spare you and your woman during the night, ranger. Do not go against the Mother that has granted you your gifts of woodlore. I will kill you, if I must."

"I will not slaughter entire villages," Crispin said. Elec shook his head sadly.

"I will give you until the sun sets," the elf decided. "Change your mind. For once the darkness comes, the hounds will hunt you down and kill you. Even if you flee now, you will never reach your pathetic cities in time."

Elec turned without another word and pushed his way past the icy blanket, pausing only long enough to summon the monstrous winter wolf to his side before he disappeared into the forest.

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"How long have you been up?"

"About an hour and a half," Crispin answered, fully dressed and crouched near the edge of the cave as Talia slowly rolled over in the blanket. The ranger must have rekindled the fire, for it crackled merrily in the middle of the tiny cave. A faint pall of woodsmoke clouded the room, stinging the mage's eyes as she sat up and pulled the blanket tightly around her. "Get dressed," the ranger instructed. "Your clothes are just about dry."

"My head is killing me," Talia said as she dragged herself closer to the fire. She gingerly put her fingers to her temples and rubbed gently, trying to ease the dull, steady ache in her skull.

"You'll live through it," Crispin informed her. "Come on. Get dressed."

"Can't we stay here for another day?" Talia asked, smiling up at the ranger. Her good humor faded, however, as she saw the unease on her companion's face. "What's wrong?"

"We had a visitor this morning," Crispin answered. "Elec, the Mournbringer. He's an elven druid. We have until the sun sets to get out of his forest, unless you think we should join him and bring winter to the rest of Tourant."

"What… what are you talking about?" Talia asked. "Visitor? Why didn't you wake me?"

"Your headache was probably caused by whatever our druid friend drugged you with," Crispin explained. "I guess he didn't care what you might have to say."

"A druid?" Talia repeated. "It really is a druid?"

"Yeah," Crispin said. "And he's controlling the winter wolves. Looks like you were right about the late storms."

"I can't believe it," Talia said, fumbling for her clothing. "I was right. I was actually right!"

"Yeah, well, that druid and his wolves are going to actually come back and actually kill us unless we get a move on," Crispin pointed out, helping the mage into her heavy shirt. "So let's not spend too much time here enjoying how actually right you were."

"My clothes aren't completely dry," Talia pointed out, holding her leggings up for Crispin to inspect.

"I know," the ranger said. "We'll try to head back upriver. If Elec didn't move Emeri's body or steal his pack, we might still be able to get those cold resistance potions."

"Do we have enough time for that?" Talia asked, pulling on her pants.

"We don't have much of a choice," Crispin explained. "If we don't get the potions, we're going to freeze to death out here. My spells can't keep the cold at bay very long."

"But what if the wolves catch up to us?" Talia asked. Crispin hesitated for a moment, looking back to the blanket that still covered the cave entrance.

"They're going to catch us no matter what," the ranger said quietly. He looked back to Talia, who had stopped in her tracks as she reached for her boots. "With those potions, we'll at least have some protection against their frost breath."

"Maybe we could hold them off here," Talia said quietly.

"The two of us don't stand a chance against a mad druid and almost a hundred winter wolves," Crispin said. "Our best chance, slim as it is, is getting back to Montcalm. Maybe if we can keep ahead of them, we'll be able to take them on a few at a time. If we sit here, they'll just converge on us. Memorize any spells you think will help us, and let's be on our way."

"I… oh, no!" Talia gasped, jumping to her feet and rushing to her wet backpack in the corner of the cave. "My spellbook!"

"Oh, no," Crispin grumbled, closing his eyes and sighing in resignation.

"Oh, dear God, please be dry," Talia prayed, ripping through her pack and pulling out her spellbook. The mage frantically ran a hand along the side of the book, then opened it and flipped through the pages as quickly as she could without damaging the paper. Crispin watched her as she appraised the damage, until Talia turned back to him uneasily.

"The… the lightning bolt is still readable," she said quietly. "The web and the burning hands, too. The magic missile is gone, and… God, the haste spell would have helped us travel quickly. I'm so sorry, Crispin."

"It's okay," Crispin said, moving to Talia's side as the mage dropped her head. The ranger put his arm around her, and Talia slowly leaned back into his side. "I was the one that threw you in the water, after all. Memorize what you can, and I'll see if I can repair your boots."

"My… oh, yeah," the mage remembered, looking back to her torn footwear. The soles of her boots had been ripped apart by the rocks in the creek, making them almost useless. Slowly the mage turned her eyes up to Crispin's face. "You think anything else could go wrong?"

"We lost the tea, too," Crispin said quietly.

"No tea?" Talia asked quietly.

"No tea," Crispin confirmed. Talia looked down at the floor for a moment, stifling a giggle.

"Now we're really done for," the mage said, a broad smile stretched across her face as she turned back to Crispin. The ranger tried to force down a chuckle, but within moments the two were practically doubled over in wild gales of laughter.

"What is funny about tea?"

Crispin and Talia both looked up, their laughter dying out instantly as they turned to the entrance of the tiny cave. Standing just inside the blanket, covered in blood but apparently relatively unharmed, Rachwal regarded his two allies with a perplexed expression.

"Rachwal!" Talia exclaimed, finding her voice first. "You're alive!"

"I hide under wolf body," the goblin explained, moving closer to the fire. "I almost get too cold, but potion keep me warm."

"Potion?" Crispin echoed. "The potions in Emeri's pack?"

"Yes," Rachwal answered, holding up a torn, bloodstained haversack. "Emeri is killed, but wolves and elf not take him away."

"You saw him," Crispin concluded. "You saw the druid."

"I see elf, wearing wolf head," Rachwal explained. "He is druid?"

"Yes, he is," Crispin answered. "Did you see where he went?"

"He goes west, to mountains," Rachwal answered. "Maybe to Goblin Stones."

"If he's going back there, maybe we'll have enough time to reach Mattin," Talia offered. Crispin shook his head.

"Even if he heads west, the wolves will be heading east, continuing their attacks," the ranger concluded. "We'll have to…"

Crispin trailed off in the middle of his statement, lost in thought as he stared into the tiny fire.

"We must kill druid, before winter kill my people," Rachwal decided. "We find him at Goblin Stones."

"We got butchered the last time we went looking for him, remember?" Talia argued. "We can't get into another fight with those wolves!"

"The wolves will track us, no matter what," Crispin said quietly, still looking into the embers. "But they'll need more time to catch up with us if we head west."

"Crispin, there's nothing to our west!" Talia pointed out.

"Elec is," Crispin corrected, looking to the mage.

"Do you really think he'll be all alone?" Talia asked, looking from Rachwal to Crispin. "I mean, you said yourself that the two of us don't stand a chance against the druid and his wolves!"

"We are three now," Rachwal pointed out.

"Well, that certainly tips the odds in our favor," Talia grumbled sarcastically.

"If we run, no matter which way we go the wolves will overtake us," Crispin explained. "But if we do find Elec, and we can kill him, maybe the wolves will break off the attacks and head home. After all, Elec told me that he needs to direct much of his power to maintaining the cold weather. Once he's dead, winter will break, and the winter wolves will head back into the mountains to find colder weather."

"It is good plan," Rachwal said. "We die fighting, not running."

"That's reassuring," Talia said sarcastically.

"Well, you wanted to be the hero," Crispin said to the mage. "Here's your big chance."


	13. The Final Stand

****

XII

It had taken them until midday to prepare for their assault, and then the rest of the day to travel through the heavy snow and across the rocky terrain. With the potions of cold resistance, the three travelers had been protected from the bitter weather, but Crispin could only hope that the potions would still be effective when they made their attack. Now the sun was setting over the Khairathi Mountains, its light rapidly disappearing behind the jagged peaks as Crispin, Talia, and Rachwal took cover beneath an ancient, enormous spruce only a few dozen yards from the abrupt cliffs that rose out of the ground. With any luck, Crispin's woodlore and spells would keep the winter wolves to their east from finding their trail, but for the moment the ranger pushed the secondary threat to the back of his mind as he studied the Goblin Stones.

Set against the base of those cliffs, Goblin Stones was a formidable natural defensive position. A narrow shelf of rock jutted out from the rock face, almost twenty feet above the forest floor. Boulders from long ago rockslides littered the plateau, providing more than adequate cover from any sort of missile attack. The only easy approach to the ledge was a narrow, rocky slope on the south end of the ledge, forcing any invaders to bunch together as easy targets for any kind of ranged defense.

"How do we get up there?" Talia asked quietly, looking over Crispin's shoulder as the ranger took stock of his options. Only a few yards away, Rachwal also sized up the formation, looking for his own route of attack.

"Looks like five winter wolves," Crispin said quietly, speaking as much to himself as to Talia. "And Elec is probably hiding somewhere back beyond the rocks."

"Crispin, that… that's the biggest wolf I've ever seen," Talia whispered, pointing to an absolutely monstrous canine lying near the center of the ledge.

"It's not that big," Crispin said, hoping that his statement sounded honest. The winter wolf he had fought in Falloux had been larger than most, but this one seemed to dwarf the pack leader from the slaughtered town. Easily larger than the biggest draft horse, the mere sight of the beast had almost made the ranger reconsider his assault, but there was no turning back now. The best he could hope for was a quick, debilitating strike against the huge canine, before it could tear him to pieces. And if that was not enough, the ranger knew that Elec would summon his dire bear servant as soon as he realized that Crispin had brought the fight to him.

"I take tree," Rachwal said, interrupting Crispin's thoughts as the goblin edged back to the pair. The raider pointed to a copse of trees growing along the edge of the rock shelf. "I shoot druid from tree."

"You can see him from there?" Crispin asked, looking to the spruce that Rachwal had indicated. The goblin shrugged.

"We will find out," he said.

"Give it a try, then," Crispin said with a nod. Rachwal turned without another word, sneaking through the trees to the spruce. Crispin inched forward a few more feet, to the edge of his cover, and slid his bow carefully off of his shoulder. "Talia," the ranger said quietly, glancing back over his shoulder.

"What is it?" the mage asked nervously, cautiously moving to her companions' side.

"I'm going to open fire on the wolves first," Crispin explained. "They'll have to come down that path to reach me, or they'll be sitting up there all night absorbing arrows. You have a lightning bolt?"

"Two," Talia corrected. "Maybe three."

"Maybe three?" Crispin repeated.

"Well, two for sure," Talia explained. "I tried to memorize a third one, but I don't know if it stuck or not."

"Then we'll count on two," Crispin said. "Wait until they start down the path. Once they commit, they'll have to come through your lightning to get to us. Don't bother holding anything in reserve. Just hit them as hard as you can before they reach me."

"Okay," Talia said, trying to drive the nerves from her voice. Crispin hesitated for a moment, studying the Arcanist.

"You'll do fine," the ranger said, patting her on the shoulder. "None of them can get to you while I'm in the way. Just go through your spells nice and easy, and don't hit me with anything."

"Okay," Talia said again. Crispin drew an arrow from his quiver, and glanced over to see if Rachwal had made his way up the tree yet.

"You ready?" the ranger inquired, peeking back over his shoulder.

"I don't think so," Talia answered.

"Well, you'd better get ready," Crispin said. Slowly he drew his bowstring to his cheek, sighting in on the largest of the wolves.

The arrow whistled in unerringly in on its target, hitting the huge winter wolf at its shoulder. Before his first arrow hit its target, the ranger was drawing back and aiming a second shot, hitting the same wolf yet again as it leapt to its feet in rage. Elec appeared suddenly with the wolves' howls of alarm, his shocked expression melting quickly into fury as he spotted the ranger edging forward beneath the spruce for another shot. For an instant Crispin thought of firing on the elf himself, but the sight of the winter wolves turning to charge down the path forced him to keep all of his attention on his initial targets. The ranger let two more arrows loose in rapid succession, then turned back to Talia.

"Lightning! Now!" he ordered. Despite the fear in her eyes, the mage took two steps forward and chanted through her spell, unleashing a perfectly aimed bolt of lightning up the path and straight through the winter wolves. Crispin kept on firing as Talia readied herself for a second spell, keeping one eye on Elec as the druid hurried after the charging wolves. "Hit them again! Quickly!"

Talia's second lightning bolt was not as well directed as her first, but the streak of electricity still did its job admirably. Elec tried to stop before he ran into the bolt, but the elf was still knocked back by the lightning. The wolves also slowed, their fur smoking from the damage that Talia's spell had done. Crispin took aim quickly, aiming once more for the large winter wolf, but changed targets as he saw Elec begin to cast a spell of his own. Crispin let his arrow fly, aiming for the elf, but Elec managed to throw his shield up in time to deflect the arrow only inches from his face. Somehow the druid managed to keep his spell, and within moments all of the winter wolves were beginning to heal the damage Talia had inflicted.

"Crispin?" Talia prompted, seeing the wolves recovering from the first two lightning bolts.

"If you have that third bolt, now would be a hell of a time to use it," Crispin said, firing one last shot at the charging winter wolves. Talia backed up a step as she cast again, but instead of lightning, glittering golden dust suddenly coated the wolves, blinding all but the largest one. Bracing himself for the brutal assault, Crispin discarded his bow and drew his sword and axe only a heartbeat before the monster reached him.

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From his vantage point in his tree, Rachwal could easily see the fight unfolding before him. Talia's lightning had cut into the winter wolves with brutal efficiency, and Crispin's arrows had almost all hit their intended targets, but the elven druid's healing magic had restored in moments much of the damage that the two humans had done in their initial assault. Within moments the wolves had recovered from the two lightning bolts, and were charging back in on his two allies, but Talia's glitterdust spell brought all but the largest to a halt, pawing at their eyes as they tried to regain their sight. Snarling in anger, Elec raised his hands to the sky, summoning his druidic powers to direct another spell against the humans. Rachwal drew an arrow to his cheek as he sighted in on the druid, taking careful aim as he steadied himself in the tree.

The goblin's arrow streaked out of the spruce only a heartbeat before Elec could finish his spell. The shaft drove through the elf's hand just as he began to throw his hands outward, destroying the druid's concentration and ruining his spell an instant before it could be completed. Elec turned on the goblin, cradling his injured hand as his features twisted into a mask of rage, but Rachwal simply drew another arrow and quickly released his shaft. The druid skipped back, out of the way of the incoming missile, and spat out another spell at the raider as Rachwal hastily reloaded. The goblin pulled his bowstring back as he nocked his third arrow, but before he could release the shot his bow distorted and warped in his hands. With a growled curse of his own, Rachwal threw the useless bow away in disgust and quickly started down the spruce, trying to reach the ground before Elec could target him with a more lethal spell. The elf was already chanting the words to another spell as the goblin slid halfway down the tree, but Rachwal stopped as he heard a thunderous roar below him.

Waiting at the base of the spruce, another of Elec's summoned dire bears glared hungrily up at the descending raider.

Rachwal cursed again as he drew one of his daggers and hurled it down at the bear, but the tiny blade simply bounced off of the monster's thick skull without dealing any real damage. The bear roared in fury as it swatted at the blade, then grabbed the spruce in its powerful paws and began to shake the tree with all of its might. Rachwal could do little more than hang on for dear life as the tree swung wildly about, but fortunately the bear could not tear the spruce out of the ground or break the trunk. Rachwal relaxed slightly as the monster gave up trying to shake him out of the tree, but his relief was extremely shortlived as the huge bear began to climb up the tree to reach the goblin. With all the speed he could muster, Rachwal began a second, far more hasty ascent into the tree, stopping only when he reached the very top of the spruce almost sixty feet from the forest floor. The bear roared as it reached the midpoint of the tree, and once again began to shake the tree. With his summoned monster taking care of the goblin and a quick healing spell to deal with his injured hand, Elec turned back to the battle raging below, ready to support his winter wolves with a new barrage of spells. With the elf's back turned and a loud crack signaling the spruce's inevitable doom, Rachwal took the last option left to him, and launched himself out of the tree at the unsuspecting druid.

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She had hoped to blind all of the wolves, but the apparent pack leader seemed to be far more resistant to her spells than its subordinates.

Talia cringed as the huge winter wolf slammed into Crispin, but any thoughts of trying to come directly to the ranger's aid were overruled as she saw the blinded wolves trying to fight their way forward into the fray. With as much speed as she could muster Talia flew through another spell, and within seconds the blinded wolves were also trapped in her web spell, howling in frustration at the newest impediment. With the other monsters taken care of for the moment, Talia spun back on Crispin and his opponent as the two battled through a haze of snow and frost, just in time to see the huge wolf clamp down on Crispin's left arm. The ranger let out a scream of pain as the monster's teeth dug into his flesh and crushed his arm, but still managed to slam his sword down on the beast's back with a powerful overhand strike. The wolf backed off for only a moment as it reacted to the fierce attack, but without her magic missile spell the mage could think of no way to adequately aid her companion. An all too familiar roar of fury echoed off of the stone walls of the peaks, and the mage nearly panicked as she saw the dire bear trying to shake Rachwal out of his tree. Unable to think of anything else, Talia tried casting a simple flare cantrip on the winter wolf, hoping to buy Crispin a second or two to sneak in a debilitating strike, but the pack leader did not so much as blink as the burst of light flashed into existence in front of its face. Talia turned back to the winter wolves trapped in her web as the creatures began to fight their way free, but before she could even begin her final lightning bolt spell the trees and bushes around her began to wrap around her arms and legs, trapping her as effectively as the her web had the wolves.

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The dire bear's roars and Talia's cry of alarm had registered dimly in the back of his mind, but Crispin could not so much as hazard a glance to either of his allies as the huge winter wolf drove in again and again. Crispin may have scored a half dozen deep cuts to the monster's flanks and shoulders, but the winter wolf had also managed an equal number of powerful bites to the ranger's arms and chest, augmented by two furious bursts of icy breath. While the potion of cold resistance protected him against the worst of the wolf's breath weapon, the ranger was still chilled to the bone and beginning to lose ground to his opponent. Stubbornly the ranger forced himself to keep on his feet and fighting, looking for the opening he needed against the winter wolf's furious assaults. Slowly the ranger began to favor his sword arm, trying to lure the wolf into attacking his left. Although the monster was brutal and relentless, the winter wolf quickly began to fall for the ploy, and finally sprung at his left to exploit the apparent weakness.

With all the speed he could muster Crispin dropped beneath the pouncing wolf, slamming upward with both his sword and hand axe as the beast passed overhead. Blood sprayed out over the ranger and the huge wolf roared in pain, but the monster spun back on its enemy as it hit the ground in preparation for a new attack. Crispin rolled back to his feet in the snow, barely able to get his axe in line for an awkward backhanded swing at his foe, but the wolf circled quickly around the weapon and drove in low at the ranger's legs. Once more Crispin dove desperately to the side, rolling through the snow only a fraction of an inch below the winter wolf's gigantic maw, and bounced back to his feet just as the first blinded wolf pulled itself free of Talia's web.

Still covered in glitterdust and unable to see, the freed wolf charged blindly forward at the ranger, but Crispin easily dodged to one side. The ranger's relief in sidestepping the assault faded, however, as he saw the blinded monster driving through the snow towards Talia, still fighting to free herself from a dense tangle of underbrush that stubbornly coiled around her arms and legs. Without another thought Crispin charged forward, intent on mauling the wolf from behind, but the huge pack leader suddenly leapt in his way to continue the fight.

"Talia! On your right!" the ranger shouted. The mage looked in time to see the wolf covering the last yards between them, but Crispin had no time to see if she would react before the pack leader pounced again. The ranger ducked low and brought his sword up in a brutal underhanded swing, but this time the wolf was ready for the assault. Crispin's blade whistled up from the ground in a huge arc, opening up his entire right side to the pack leader's assault just as the wolf rammed into him. Crispin was ripped off of his feet by the force of the wolf as it bit down on his hip, certain that he heard his bones breaking under the force of the wolf's jaws.

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The dire bear and the top half of the spruce crashed to the snowy ground with a flat thud, but Rachwal tumbled onto the ledge with his sword and Emeri's oversized shield in hand. Halfway through a spell, Elec turned a stunned look on the goblin as he stumbled back to his feet and pushed himself forward into a charge. Grinning maliciously, the druid simply changed the target of his spell, thrusting his hands out and upward at the goblin.

Rachwal raised his shield, ready to deflect an attack from the druid, but the threat came from behind instead. The raider sprinted forward for all he was worth as a column of white flames slammed into the ground behind him, billowing out in a wave of fire. The flame strike scorched his back and burned off his hair, but Rachwal somehow managed to avoid the worst of the mystical assault as he closed the distance to his opponent. Snarling in anticipation, Elec drew a beautiful, silvery scimitar from the sheath on his side as the goblin covered the last of the distance to him, ready to meet Rachwal's attack.

Rachwal cut his charge short at the last possible moment, sliding beneath Elec's blade and lunging forward with his short sword at the druid's chest. The elf twisted awkwardly, trying to escape the goblin's attack, but Rachwal's sword tore a line of crimson across Elec's side. Gasping with pain and surprise, the druid whipped his scimitar back into line and chopped down at the diminutive fighter, but Rachwal threw his shield up just in time to deflect the blade. Frost rippled out from the scimitar as it met the wooden shield, but the goblin had no time to admire the weapon as he scrambled back to his feet to face a renewed attack from his foe. Elec came back with a second, sweeping slash, pushing Rachwal back two steps as the goblin tried to bring his shield back in line with his opponent. Elec's scimitar slid across Rachwal's shoulder in a glancing blow, but the frost that shimmered out from the blade had no effect on the goblin as he ducked low and scored another hit on the druid's thigh. Elec staggered back a step, forcing out another spell as he favored his injured leg, but Rachwal refused to allow the druid any time to recover as he pressed the attack. Accepting another glancing blow from his enemy, Rachwal lunged forward with his sword, aiming for the elf's heart.

Elec caught the goblin's blade in his hand, accepting a vicious gash to his palm in his desperate attempt to steer the sword wide of his body. With the elf stumbling back and cradling his wounded hand, Rachwal drove forward once more, but found himself swinging nothing more than a brass hilt as his short sword's blade rusted away to nothing. What was left of the weapon shattered against the stiff leather of Elec's armor, but Rachwal barely had time to register surprise at his weapon's destruction as Elec resumed the offensive. The goblin backpedaled as his opponent charged forward, barely knocking away Elec's sweeping slashes with his shield as he fumbled for his last dagger. With each strike the elf pushed Rachwal back another two steps, forcing the raider dangerously close to the edge of the plateau and the dire bear roaring in fury below. Rachwal hazarded a glance back, to see the huge monster clawing its way out from under the toppled spruce, but could spare no more time as Elec brought his scimitar down in a heavy, overhand chop. Rachwal threw his shield up in time to deflect the blow, but the force of the strike and the weapon's supernaturally sharp blade splintered the wooden defense and drove Rachwal to his knees.

"Goodbye, defiler," Elec spat, drawing his scimitar back for a final strike. Without any other recourse, Rachwal turned and jumped for the broken spruce, hoping that he would not fall short. But without a good running start, the goblin managed to grab only a few twigs before he thudded into the snow only a few yards from the waiting dire bear.

______________________________________________________

Even if she had not been entangled, she knew she would never escape the charging monster.

Talia gave up on pulling herself free and instead focused on another spell, frantically tumbling over her words and components as the winter wolf bore down on her. Only just recovering from its blindness, the huge canine nonetheless was charging directly at her, frost beginning to build up in its mouth as it prepared to tear the mage to pieces. The wolf was only a yard away from her when Talia shoved her hands forward, shooting out a fan of flames straight into the wolf's eyes, nose and mouth before it could snap its jaws shut on her arms. Already badly injured from the earlier lightning spells and Crispin's arrows, the beast stumbled backwards, whimpering in pain as it shoved its huge maw into the snow with its dying breath. As the monster finally fell on its side, Talia breathed out a sigh of relief.

Her relief was extremely shortlived, however, as she saw the other wolves break free of the web and turn on the mage.

Talia raced through another spell, barely coming up with the components for an obscuring mist, but the vines wrapped around her arms jerked her hands out of position at the last moment and ruined the spell. Seeing the spellcaster and remembering the lightning, the three remaining wolves turned on her as one, ignoring Crispin's desperate battle with the pack leader in their hurry to kill the mage. Fighting through her fear, Talia once again raced through a spell, casting her mirror image only seconds before the wolves could reach her. Suddenly faced with six targets, the wolves hesitated for a moment, but then resumed their assault. Within seconds, three of Talia's images had been destroyed by her attackers.

"Please Pelor let this work," Talia begged, finding her components for a lightning bolt spell. The mage had hoped that her images would buy her more time, or perhaps allow Crispin to join the fight on her side, but at their current pace the winter wolves would destroy her final images in a matter of seconds. All three wolves were on her right, directly between her and Crispin, but the mage could only hope that her lightning bolt would not hit her companion when she cast it. Already the wolves were racing towards their targets, giving Talia precious little time to complete her spell. Once again she threw out her hands, unleashing her lightning almost directly into the gaping maw of the wolf that had been attacking her.

The lightning bolt tore out along the ground, slamming into all three wolves with enough force to hurl them back into the snow and kill them instantly. For a long moment Talia simply stared at her handiwork, amazed not only that the spell had worked, but that all three wolves had been slain by the spell. Her elation died as soon as it came, however, as her worst fear was realized. Her lightning bolt had apparently reached Crispin and the pack leader. The huge winter wolf had dropped into the snow as well, and Crispin was nowhere in sight.

"You are talented, young one," a quiet, melodic voice said behind her. Talia whirled, suddenly finding herself free of the entanglements that had held her through the battle, and found herself facing what could only be Elec. The elf smiled slightly as he raised his scimitar, ready to take the mage's head from her shoulders. Talia tried to begin her last spell, but Elec struck as soon as she had begun her spell, nearly cutting off her hand with a single stroke of his blade. "But now, it is time for you to die."

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Cursing and grunting into the heavy snow, Crispin clawed his way out from beneath the huge winter wolf with the last of his energy, his muscles still twitching from the impact of Talia's last lightning bolt. While his opponent had taken the brunt of his companion's spell and shielded him from the full force of the lightning, the bolt had still thrown Crispin flat on his back a moment before the monstrous wolf had fallen on top of him. With his ears ringing and only half certain that the roars that he heard were actually from Elec's dire bear, Crispin reached into the pouch on his side and scooped out a bit of the healing salve for the worst of his injuries.

"I'll thank her, then I'll stab her," the ranger muttered, smearing the healing salve across his torn and bleeding hip. He could feel the flesh and bone begin to mend almost instantly, stealing away the worst of the fiery pain tearing through his side. Uncertain if the battle was still raging around him, and with the winter wolf still lying across his legs from the knees down, Crispin simply collapsed back in the snow, allowing himself a moment to try to recover from the vicious beating he had taken.

Talia's scream of pain had him up in a heartbeat, fumbling to pull his axe and sword free of the winter wolf's flanks as he tried to stumble forward. A dozen or more yards ahead of him, Talia stumbled to the ground as she clutched her arm in pain. Standing over her and already drawing his scimitar back for the kill, Elec was too focused on his current target to see the ranger struggling to his feet. Without a second to lose, Crispin yanked his hand axe free of the winter wolf and hurled it at the druid, praying that it would reach its target before the elf could finish the job on Talia.

Elec seemed to sense the danger at the last possible moment, looking up in time to manage an awkward dodge away from the weapon. Instead of planting itself firmly in the druid's side, Crispin axe glanced off of Elec's shoulder and headdress before it spun off into the dense forest. Crispin had no time to worry about his errant throw, however, as he charged through the snow toward his opponent, drawing a dagger to use in place of his lost axe. Without time to cast any further spells, Elec turned to meet Crispin's charge with his scimitar at the ready.

Crispin's sword met Elec's scimitar with a tortured screech. The druid dropped low, trying to sneak under the taller ranger's defenses, but Crispin spun aside before Elec could land a solid blow. The ranger whirled back on his opponent even as Elec regained his balance, scoring a deep gash through the druid's leather armor and drawing a line of blood across his chest. Elec dropped back a step, crying out in pain, but Crispin refused to give the druid any time to recover as he stabbed forward with his dagger. Elec fell back with a tortured shriek as the blade sank to the hilt in his shoulder, tearing free of Crispin's hand as the druid scrambled away from his opponent. Still hampered by his badly injured leg, Crispin nonetheless rushed forward for all he was worth, trying to reach the druid before he could cast another spell. Already the elf was racing through a chant, throwing his arms up to the sky as the ranger covered the last feet of distance between them.

He almost made it to Elec in time.

Crispin screamed in pain as a wall of brilliant golden flames shot up from the ground directly under him, catching him in the middle of a wall of fire. The ranger dove through to the other side as quickly as he could, but the flames had scorched him across much of his body and burned off most of his beard and hair. In his desperation to put out the flames covering his body, Crispin dove into the deep snow on the other side of the wall, burrowing as far beneath the melting snow as he could. Within moments his burning clothes had been extinguished, but the damage had already been done. Crispin could barely even struggle to his knees as Elec limped forward, a grimace of pain on his face as he gingerly touched the hilt of the ranger's dagger stuck in his shoulder. Without a word the druid stumbled towards the ranger as he lifted his scimitar.

A disgusting thud sounded just behind the druid. Elec's eyes widened slightly in shock, but the expression lasted for only a moment before the elf collapsed into the snow. Standing behind him, Talia wavered unsteadily on her feet, Crispin's axe in her hands.

"Are… you okay?" the mage asked, staggering towards the crippled ranger.

"We're going to have a long talk about where you aim your lightning bolts," Crispin said simply. Talia's mouth dropped open.

"I… I'm sorry," the mage said, dropping to Crispin's side. "I thought… well, I hoped you weren't in range, but I… well, the other wolves…"

"It's all right, Talia," Crispin said with a bit of a smile. "It helped more than it hurt. Well, almost."

"What about Rachwal?" Talia asked, looking up from the ranger. As if in response, a terrible roar echoed through the forest, evidence of the dire bear's rage and frustration. Crispin made it as far as one knee when he saw Rachwal limping towards the pair, burned and badly wounded but still alive.

"I trick bear," the raider said, stopping in front of the pair. "It in hole now. Cannot get out."

"Good," Crispin said. "Because I'm almost dead and she's out of spells."

"Elf is dead?" Rachwal inquired, pointing to Elec's corpse in the snow.

"Yeah, he's dead," Crispin confirmed. Rachwal hesitated for only a moment before he walked over to Elec's body and pried the scimitar from his hand. The raider examined the weapon quickly, then turned back to the pair of humans.

"I go now," Rachwal said simply. Without waiting for a reply, the goblin turned to the south, setting off for his distant home. Talia and Crispin watched their ally go for a minute, until the mage turned back to Crispin.

"Do you think it's a good idea to let him go?" Talia asked. Crispin shrugged as he watched the raider disappear through the trees.

"I'm in no condition to stop him," the ranger pointed out. Talia smiled as she sat down next to him.

"I guess you're right," she said, appraising the badly injured woodsman. "Do you think you can walk?"

"If it's all right with you, I'm just going to lay here for a little bit," Crispin answered, falling back into the snow. "Let me know when spring gets here."


	14. Epilogue

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Epilogue

The village of Falloux was no longer a ghost town as Crispin and Talia made their way into the western fringe of the community. At least seventy Tourant Lancers had made the village their new home, tramping the rapidly melting snow into a thick sludge of mud and ice along the streets. A contingent of priests had also come to the town, revitalizing the dormant temple. Even a handful of mages from the Arcanists' Guild had made the long trip from Montcalm to Falloux, ready to supply magical backup to the Lancers if the need arose.

"They're a little late," Talia said simply, standing on the edge of the village next to Crispin. It had taken the pair three days to return from the Goblin Stones, taking little comfort in the fact that winter had broke almost as soon as Elec died. The melting snow had formed a heavy mix of waterlogged snow and brittle ice, making the return trip as difficult as their initial journey through the swirling winds and deep powder.

"At least they brought some clerics," Crispin said, using his long bow as a cane. The small amount of healing salve that they pair had left over after the battle had done little to heal their wounds, and Crispin's healing magic was not nearly powerful enough to mend the extensive damage that the wolves and the druid had inflicted upon the pair.

"To the temple, then?" Talia concluded, turning to her companion.

"Before anyone sees us," Crispin agreed, nodding. The two had only taken a few steps before they lost the element of surprise.

"Crispin!" a familiar voice shouted from the center of the village. The ranger turned slowly, to see Fleury hurrying through the icy mire to the pair. "What happened to you? We thought you'd be here waiting for us!"

"Would have been too dangerous," Crispin said. "By the way, we dealt with the problem."

"We got your message," Fleury said, coming to a stop in front of the pair. "What was that about a druid?"

"An elf," Crispin corrected. "He was hiding out in the mountains, using his spells to keep winter going. He wanted to freeze us all out."

"An elf," Fleury said, considering the information. "Guess we should have known. They give us more and more problems every year."

"He wasn't from Argent," Talia put in. "What took you so long?"

"We've had other problems, a little bit north of here," Fleury explained, growing serious. "Half of Sauveterre was killed, winter wolves again. And Taureau is a ghost town. No one survived there, either. Four hundred dead, in all."

"He really did a job," Crispin said, looking past the old Lancer to the milling soldiers. The ranger hesitated for a moment, then continued. "Emeri… didn't make it. I'm sorry."

"Well, at least you two made it back," Fleury said quietly, looking down at the ground for a moment. "I'm glad that elf didn't get everyone. Guess I knew as soon as I saw the two of you without him."

"Sorry," Talia said. "He… well, he saved us, at any rate."

"Yeah, well, everyone dies some time," Fleury said, trying to push the conversation past the subject of his friend's death. "Look, the marquis sent some officials down here, and the Arcanists' Guild wants to know what happened to their wayward scholar. You two head over to the temple and get those injuries looked at, and I'll let the officials know you're here."

Crispin opened his mouth to protest, but Fleury had already turned and started back into the town to alert the company's leaders to his arrival. 

"We should have stayed in the cave another couple of days," Talia said, turning wearily to the ranger.

"There might be time to head back now," Crispin offered. Talia smiled slightly.

"I'd rather sleep in a bed," she said, nodding to a nearby cabin. The mage took two steps to the small building, then turned back to Crispin. "Are you coming?"

"I thought you'd never ask," the ranger said with a smile, following Talia to the cabin.


	15. A Final Word

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A Final Word…

You actually got up- to this part? You're braver than I thought…

Anyway, thanks to the few but loyal fans that have taken the time to review this little story. It gives credence to my thought that an interesting character does not have to be a good drow, a half dragon, or some other weird creature. For this story, my extra special thanks goes out to my Number One Fan, Lady Valtaya. Check your email…

While this story has come to an end, there are still ninety-nine ideas left the _Dungeon Master's Guide_…


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